


The Voice of Your Eyes

by Terias



Series: Beneath the Restless Skies [1]
Category: Natsume Yuujinchou | Natsume's Book of Friends, 僕のヒーローアカデミア | Boku no Hero Academia | My Hero Academia
Genre: AND THIS PLUNNIE WOULDN'T GO AWAY, Also Natsume is learning JSL, Ch 5 has outsider POV and chatfic, Gen, I should have expected that but didn't, I wrote this because I'm in love with Yesterday Upon a Stair, If you haven't started reading Yuts YOU REALLY SHOULD, Kaminari is good at building circuits, Midoriya can see ghosts, Natsume can see monsters and youkai, because his new bestie is a nonverbal poltergeist, but they can both see poltergeists, how did this happen
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-04-21
Updated: 2018-05-21
Packaged: 2019-04-26 00:02:56
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 27,488
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14389881
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Terias/pseuds/Terias
Summary: Aldera Junior High has a new transfer student in the middle of the semester. Unfortunately, he doesn't stay more than a day.Of course, Natsume is used to being blamed for rampant destruction, but it's the first time that someone else sees that he isn't outright causing it. That tiny bit of understanding makes a world of difference.





	1. Aldera Junior High

**Author's Note:**

  * Inspired by [Yesterday Upon The Stair](https://archiveofourown.org/works/8337607) by [PitViperOfDoom](https://archiveofourown.org/users/PitViperOfDoom/pseuds/PitViperOfDoom). 



> Rei is here. I love her. 
> 
> You don't really have to know anything about Natsume's Book of Friends to read this fic.

An extremely thin, silver-haired boy stands before the 1-A class at Aldera Junior High. Even though no one’s paying attention to his introduction, he bows politely and says, “I’m Natsume Takashi. Nice to meet you.”

“You can take the last seat by the window, Natsume-kun,” the homeroom teacher says. Natsume can’t remember what his name was. He’s transferred too many times now to keep anyone straight.

As he walks to the back, the teacher claps his hands together, “Okay, okay! Settle down, you louts!!”

“Hey! He never said what his Quirk was?” “Yeah!” “That’s basic courtesy!” “Yeah yeah!” “Unless he doesn’t have a Quirk like boring Deku!” The class thought this was funny because they laughed.

“Who cares? We don’t need to know an _extra’s_ lame Quirk. The only one worth anything is _me_ ,” says an arrogant classmate with spikey dirty blond hair sitting towards the front. Natsume quickly looks away because the last thing he wants is that one’s attention. He looks like he has a mean streak that’s miles long. Since the teacher doesn’t scold him that meant he must have a powerful Quirk of his own. Quirk Favoritism made classroom hierarchies ugly.

Natsume sets his bag down and pulls out a notebook and his pencil bag without looking at anyone. Leaning back, he looks into the clear sky and wishes he could stay home.

“Ah, well. It’s not important,” the teacher says dismissively, and Natsume pulls out the proper textbook from the desk, “Now open your English books to page 59, we’re going to start…”

“Psst, my name’s Midoriya. What’s your Quirk?”

Natsume’s eyes pull away from the open sky as he turns to his new neighbor beside him. He frowns at the bright wide eyes with dark circles beneath them framed by green curls and turns back to the window, and then startles violently when there’s a giant eye staring in. “ _Natsume Reikoooooooo_.”

He immediately looks down at his textbook taking a deep, but quiet breath. _Go away, go away, go away_ …

A chilly child’s hand touches Natsume’s and he stills, his heart racing. His eyes travel up the arm and there’s hair, long black hair everywhere. Have you ever seen The Ring? This child looked just like her. She nudges him again as he stares and she raises her head. Scared to see what lay under her hair, he slumps forward so fast that he makes a loud thud against the text book.

The teacher stops. “Everything okay back there?”

“Just fine, sensei!” The green-haired classmate next to Natsume chirps.

Natsume closes one-half of the textbook on his head, shoulders hunched as the Ring girl keeps prodding him. Thank god he’s not ticklish there.

“ _NATSUME REIKOOOOOOOOOO”_ the voice howls on his other side. Yeah, this isn’t better. If he ignores it for too long… Natsume glances up at it and it’s raised an arm longer than the classroom as if it’s swinging towards him. _Too late._

“EVERYONE DOWN!!” Natsume yells, and there’s much confusion but a lot of people actually _listen_ since he ducks with his back towards the windows, head protected.

The windows simultaneously burst showering everyone, and Natsume simply tries to pretend he’s alone even as a massive hand reaches in and its palm presses against his back. Panic is clawing up his throat because he really, really, really wants to run but if he does that it’ll tear straight through the building like an anteater digging through a termite hill. While the rest of their classmates run into the hallway, Midoriya is staring right at him with a wounded, understanding look in his eyes, reaching for him, but Natsume shakes his head hard. “Stay back!” The fingers close and now he brings his elbows forward to protect his face.

“Natsume-kun? What is th—” His classmate is shaking in terror as he stares and then squints at the log-sized digits. But no, that’s Natsume’s frantic mind playing tricks on him, surely.

“Get out of here!! It—” _only wants me_ , he almost says and then swallows it, “Don’t worry about me! I’ll be fine!” He’s furiously trying to hold the fingers back from his face so he can at least breathe, but it’s picking him up now and drawing him out of the classroom. He’s trying to project calm at Midoriya, even without seeing him.

Then, the most unholy noise deafens his ears and his hands clap down over his ears. Now, he’s falling. He’s trying to understand what just happened and has a great view of the fight between the giant ogre and the little girl that’s turned into a blackhole of rage and hair.

A huge burst of wind catches him and he lands heavily on the ground on his back. He’s staring up at the fight in the sky overhead with amazement. That’s never happened before.

“Hey, you stupid extra!!” It’s the mean guy standing with his other new classmates at the edge of their decimated classroom and there’s loud popping coming from his fists. “What the fuck was that?!” Hundreds of other faces are vying to look down at him from the other classrooms. A nasty, crumpled gash dents their school building in that localized spot.

In the distance is the sound of sirens. Natsume covers his face with a hand and can’t help the laugh. He’s in so much trouble again, and it’s not even his fault. But then, it never is.

Something hits him in the gut and he lets out a loud ‘Ooof’. The poltergeist(?) had landed on him after scaring the ogre away and is staring down at him, her face surprisingly normal if you discounted the weeping pools of black where her eyes were and that her smile opened to emptiness. She’s moving her hands rapidly at him. He recognizes that she’s talking with her hands, but he’s never bothered to learn the language.

“Natsume-kun!!!”

The girl steps off of him as soon as his green-haired classmate appears next to him. Natsume sits up and looks questioningly at the short teen who was clearly out of breath from running downstairs and possibly evading the school staff staying a safe distance away.

“What was that? I couldn’t really see it. Our Quirks must work on different wavelengths or something. That’s really fascinating that you can see Rei then when you can’t see the others. Do you always have problems with things attacking you? Is that why everyone was saying you had psychokinesis because of the destruction? If you could make some friends with whatever attacked you, I bet that would be really really useful, but if you hadn’t yet I guess it might be impossible but that’s really sad because you could do so much if only—”

Natsume raises his hand. “Look. Uh, Midoriya, right? I… they’ll probably stick me in an institution after this. We won’t see each other again.”

“But. But you’re.”

“I’m a danger to society. So.” _And since there’s nothing **I** can do… _

His classmate mumbles something with downcast eyes and then starts fiddling with his hands, but those are talking-hands too.

Natsume watches as the girl and his classmate communicate, but he looks away as soon as they stop and look at him.

“You can see Rei, can’t you?” There’s something really sad hiding in those depths, something that his classmate wants to say but doesn’t. His eyes flick to Natsume’s right, then left, and then trains on something standing behind him, but when Natsume looks nothing is there.

Natsume mentally shrugs, patting off his backside from the dirt. “That’s what her name was? Thanks, Rei. Who knows where it would’ve taken me. Or for how long.” And there’s the local television station van pulling in not long after the police squad cars. The officers are milling around, probably waiting for a hero with a capture device.

The sound of wood scuffing the pavement reaches Natsume’s ears before his classmate gasps loudly. “Kamui Woods!”

“Please stand back, citizen.” It’s a hero, probably a local one whose entire body looks to be made of wood.

Beside Natsume, Rei starts growling as her hair writhed.

“But he’s not a villain!! He told everyone to get down before—”

“Before he lost control of his Quirk. I understand how you feel, but power like that must be properly shackled for everyone’s benefit including his own.”

“B-but… but.”

“I’m ready, sir,” Natsume says calmly, trying to think of the calm days with his father long, long ago. He stands patiently as he’s put in the full body vest and a blinking bulky collar which suppresses psychokinesis, though the hero left off the mouth restraint. Nice of him, really.

“But if he could control it?” His classmate has an entirely too knowing glint to his eyes and a determined, but grim expression. His eyes seem far away as if he’s listening intently to something else.

“When that happens, he’ll be released of course.”

Yeah, Natsume wasn’t looking forward to that only because he would have nowhere to go other than an orphanage. After this, no self-respecting distant relative would go near him.

He calmly follows at the same sedate pace. The officers greet him, one of them telling him where they were taking him and that his guardians had already been contacted. “Thank you for cooperating with us. Sorry you have to go through all of this.” Then, a door is opened and a warm hand on his head helps him duck into the police car without hurting himself. He slides in and they use the restraints to tie him to special connectors in the seat and shut the door.

Natsume leans his head back and sighs heavily. That had to be a new record, even for him.

A finger prods him in the side, and he jumps against the restraints though they don’t budge. He looks around but can’t see her, probably because of the collar’s suppression. “Hi, Rei. Tell him I’m fine. The capture gear feels like one big hug.”

Something chilly brushes over his cheek and then the air stirs. She’s probably gone now.


	2. Dagoba Quirk R&C Facility

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I was not expecting Kaminari of all people show up, but he's not a bad addition.

“Hey! Chicken bones, I’m talking to you!”

Natsume looks up at the much older teen, who was twice his size with reptilian features. He had to be top dog or whatever at the Dagoba Quirk Rehabilitation and Control Facility because he’s blustering around and puffing his chest trying to look scary. The problem is that Natsume’s attention is on the sound of metal crumpling and the polished cement floor cracking across the room and not on the loud-mouth.

“Hey!” Repitle Guy snaps his fingers at him. “You mental or something?” He’s looming over Natsume now, but Natsume keeps trying to look around him and the little snippets he manages to see are really not looking good. The path of destruction is heading straight for him, and maybe it might be a bad idea to interrupt Ruru or whatever the guy had said his name was but Natsume’s got _seconds_. “It’s coming. You’ll want to move,” he tells the other teen.

Ruru didn’t like this of course and raises himself up to his full height, far taller than two meters. Natsume dodges under Ruru’s swipe and looks between his legs and sees absolutely nothing behind Ruru besides overt destruction. His hand closes over the blinking collar and he holds his breath. Every hair is up on the nape of his neck and Natsume only has a moment to look up at Ruru, who opens his lizard-mouth of sharp teeth before he’s thrown halfway across the cafeteria. Every conversation quiets as if someone hit the mute button. Even the guards stare on in disbelief.

Natsume winces at the sound of body impacting a concrete pillar. Of course, that breaks the stillness of the guards, who start freaking out. Even so, it’s a little too late since Natsume’s ankles get wrapped up in freezing, sticky goo by a creature that smells like the inside of a freezer. Even with the Quirk Suppressor on he can tell that it’s _furious_.

Before his legs are inevitably yanked out from beneath him, he wraps both arms around his head and tucks his chin in. Not a moment later, his back slams into the ground as he’s bodily lifted by his ankles leaving one of his elbows to drag against the polished concrete.

He remembers the sound of a gun going off, the sharp sting of a tranquilizer striking him in the back, but doesn’t really remember how they got him away. He wakes up on the floor in solitary confinement in capture gear that’s tied to the wall. The room is bright white and padded. The light seems to emanate evenly from several ceiling tiles themselves.

He doesn’t know how long he’s been there, what day it is, but he’s not thirsty. He looks to his right and sees that there’s an IV set up hanging from a transparent eyehole hook in the ceiling. The bag isn’t labeled as saline, but he doesn’t think it’s medicine either.

The door opens, swinging out. Guess it’s to lower blindspots if people get free of restraints.

Wearing a labcoat, a short woman with dark skin and bright green hair steps in and introduces herself as Dr. Utsushida. Natsume is surprised that there’s not a guard with the Quirk therapist even with the amount of destruction his Quirk supposedly caused. He’s simply watchful as she takes a seat in the chair across from him. She asks after how he’s feeling and he quietly tells her that he’s fine.

Balancing a tablet on her thigh, she leans slightly forward with her hands clasped together. “So, we had some time to acclimate with your case… It seems that your Quirk has been incorrectly categorized.”

Natsume blinks because that is not how his Quirk counseling sessions usually start. He frowns because as far as he’s concerned there wasn’t anything different from this “episode” and the last one at a less secure facility.

“Ah, you’re confused, but not surprised. Yes, well. Of course you wouldn’t be.” She smiles, unclasping her hands as she swipes on her screen. “Now, I had to dig pretty far back in your Quirk therapy files to find an allusion to… monsters?. but I see that no one took you seriously and made some considerably flawed assumptions in the process.”

He doesn’t even frown. He simply looks at her because he wants her to get to the point.

“Hmm.” She types something out into the tablet in her hands. “Did you want to tell me exactly what happened in the cafeteria? You can use the term ‘monster’ if you find it fitting.”

He looks to the side since he really hates talking about his Quirk and purses his lips. He’s not about to mention that invisible monsters did it because inevitably they’d start questioning his sanity.

She clears her throat, and he looks up. “Ranmaru Rui told us that you warned him that, ‘It’s coming. You’ll want to move.’…” She tilts her head at him. “Did you want to elaborate?”

“Not really,” he quietly answers, eyes dropping to the floor as he fiddles with the coarse fabric of the capture gear.

“Ah. Well, you won’t be leaving solitary until you tell us.”

He leans his head back against the padded wall. “That’s fine. It’s safer.”

“Safer for who?”

“Everyone.”

He hears the chair creak as she shifts. There’s several more beats before she lets out a sigh. “Natsume-kun, let me be frank. I don’t think you belong here. I think that the true nature of your Quirk has eluded the very authorities in charge of keeping the peace for so long because it’s extremely rare.” She taps into her tablet. “Here are the facts: Your Quirk Suppressor was fully operational _and_ you were knocked unconscious. Yet, you were clearly being dragged across the cafeteria.”

She flips the tablet up so the screen is towards him and clicks ‘play’. His eyes zero in on the monster that he couldn’t see before. It’s eyeless and tar-like and is indeed dragging him, but the lights flicker ominously before the feed cuts out.

“There is damage to railings, the floor, and other areas that tells us the story that _something_ made its way towards you with the intention of taking you away. You proactively protected your head. You saw the signs of it coming. You warned Ranmaru. After the feed cut out, the guards said you were dropped like a sack of potatoes right before the lights came back on. We’re not even sure if we would have been able to stop whatever it was on our own. But this secrecy of yours? It ends now.”

Natsume hangs his head down, gritting his teeth together. He doesn’t want to be called a liar again, but they’re practically asking for it, weren’t they? “The truth is that I’ve seen monsters as far back as I can remember.” His voice is tiny coming out of his constricted throat. “But they’re not usually that obvious. It was probably really angry about something. That seems to help them affect things physically.”

“What do they want?”

He shrugs. “Sometimes… they’re able to communicate, but it never makes any sense. They ask for things that I don’t know how to give.”

“Like something intangible?” Her fingers are flying across the tablet now.

“Yes. Most ask for their names like it’s something I can just hand it to them… And they don’t want me to name them, they want their names _back_. Others want a book that doesn’t exist anywhere. I’ve _looked_. It can’t be a book about friendships or like a yearbook with friends either. So, I don’t even think they mean _book_ or _name_. It must be something else and I just don’t understand.” Despair lines his face. It’s followed by bone-deep exhaustion. He feels defeated by this impossible task given to him by invisible monsters.

“I believe you. I know that may not be much, but after what happened yesterday everyone believes in your monsters.”

His eyes sting, but he furiously blinks to force the tears away.

“Now, we’re going to try new things going forward. If there’s anything that can be done to either keep them away from you altogether or even deter them from handling you like that, then that would be much better than how you’ve been coping so far. Right?” The Quirk Therapist gives him an encouraging smile and the pricking at his eyes finally diminishes. “First things first. We have to update your Quirk Registry. Do you have any ideas for a new name?”

* * *

So, it gets better. When yet another attack happens, out of all the weapons the guards whip out, it’s the high voltage batons that ultimately drives the monster off.

Sitting in his small, windowless cell with exactly one toilet and two beds, Natsume rubs at his bruised neck from that last encounter, glad to be mostly free of the collar device.

Even with all the state-mandated classes and activities for young, growing minds, he’s left with a lot of time to think, time that for normal teens would be spent entertaining themselves. After one disastrous trip to the on-site library—it has windows, and another monster recognized him—Natsume has been gifted with a severely pared down tablet that he can use to check out digital copies of books or watch educational videos.

There’s only so much learning he can do before he burns out, so he sets the tablet aside. He’s a little bored, and his mind keeps coming back to his brief conversation with Midoriya. And the comparison between their Quirks.  
  
"You can see Rei, but not the others," he recounts out loud, tasting each word. Natsume’s mind flashes back to the moment Midoriya reached for him, the horror on his face and understanding in his eyes as he tried and mostly failed to see what Natsume was fighting against. “So... he only sees ghosts?"  
  
Natsume leans back thoughtfully. He rarely ever sees ghosts, but they were either vicious or incredibly powerful in some way. Otherwise, he could only catch flickers out the corners of his eyes, but he always dismissed them before, thinking it was a trick of the light.  
  
Now he wonders if he really saw a smirking girl with long blond hair wielding a paper-covered bat like a weapon…

Running a bored hand through his hair, he remembers how the class laughed about lame Quirks and thinks that Midoriya probably was bullied for his weak Quirk. It’s probably why he jumped at that the chance to make a connection with Natsume, especially if Natsume has a ghost companion of his own.

He wonders how well he would have fit in at that school, or if he would have spent most of his time running around, skipping class and avoiding monsters.

The lights of his cell flicker a little, and Rei simply appears. She’s taken to visiting him every afternoon ever since he was first attacked, and he thinks she’s the reason why the last monster was thwarted.

 _Hi_ , he signs clumsily words he’s been practicing by himself. _Thanks, days ago to stop that attack._

Her entire body lights up, long hair splaying out like a dense cloud. She lets out a staticky cackle, and oh so carefully signs _Hand-talking practice, you? Surprised, I!_

_Not good yet. No practice with anyone._

_With me! Practice! Play, us!_

They get to talking. She informs him how _Little Brother_ plans to apply to UA in a couple of years, though she had to spell out a few of the signs for Natsume to understand. Then she speaks at length about _Little Brother’s_ adventures helping ghosts find peace.

_Proud of him. Little Brother’s heart big enough for whole world._

Natsume smiles. _Your little brother, the best right?_

 _Right!_ She signs forcefully. _The greatest and the best!_

_Glad, I am. And jealous. Jealous of your little brother. To have such a good big sister._

The black tears oozing from her eyes punctuate the widening of her eyes as her hands falter. _Little that can be done for him. Can’t hurt who hurts him. Not a good sister._

Natsume smiles with a bit of a chuckle. _How long that you stay? By him?_

She’s floating now, leaning to the side and swooping around, dipping towards the floor while her feet remain strictly anchored to one spot. All the while she has a finger thoughtful against her cheek. _Young. Very young. This tall_. She straightens enough to mime the height of, presumably, a three year old on the small side.

 _Still jealous of him,_ Natsume signs with pronounced movement, hoping she takes it for sincerity. _There’s no one for me._  
  
A hidden speaker in the brick buzzes, and Natsume immediately turns towards it. “Inmate 8990, await a transfer to your cell.”

Natsume tilts his head towards the door, but doesn’t move from his spot on the bed.

“Geez! Calm down, y’all. I told you that putting me in here is _overkill_ ,” a bright blond teen about Natsume’s age says pleadingly towards the guards, who slam the door in his face without answering. “Oh man, this is bad. Shit is this bad.” He balls up his fists; there are Quirk Suppressors cuffing him. While the teen is turned away, Natsume gets a good look at him.

There are black squiggles, almost like lightning going through the length of the hair jutting over his back like some raucous wig. He’s definitely athletic going by how lean the muscles of his bare forearms are. “Okay, keep it cool, man. They’ll let me out on good behavior. I mean, UA believes in second chances so it’s not _impossible_ to get in with a juvie record,” he’s muttering to himself. Then he turns and seems to realize there’s another occupant. “Oh! Hello, I’m Kaminari Denki.” He practically bounces over to him energetically.

Natsume glances over to Rei, whose lips pull back into a mischievous empty smile. “Hi.”

Kaminari blinks down at him. “Not going to tell me your name? I mean we’re bunkmates now.”

“Natsume Takashi. Nice to meet you, Kaminari.”

Without tripping over himself, the teen moves his feet in such a way that when he hops to the side he lands on the bed on the opposite side of the cell. “What’re you in for?”

Rei lets out another creepy, subtonal giggle and the lights flicker and go out. The only light coming into the cell is from the small, rectangular window in the door.

“Okay… That’s… creepy.” In the faint light, Kaminari raises a finger, but nothing happens. He curses. “When do they take these cuffs off?”

“A week.” Natsume is signing towards the floating Rei. _Turn the lights back on!_

 _Why?_ She lets out another hair-raising giggle.

_Bad first time to meet!_

She sulks a bit, disappearing and as she reappears the lights flicker back on as if nothing had happened. _Little Brother needs me_.

 _See you later,_ Natsume signs and then sees that Kaminari is staring. “What?”

“ _Dude_.” His new bunkmate quickly signs, _You know JSL!_

“Only a little.” He doesn’t really want to talk about it. “I’m learning for a friend.”

“I know it pretty well because of my aunt.” Kaminari’s cheerful face grows serious. “My family is all about Quirks dealing with Electricity or Plasma. Mine’s Electrification since it’s got a wide range. Anyway, when my aunt’s Quirk manifested it shattered every bone in her body and ruptured her eardrums. So… uh, we all learned to sign since cochlear implants are too expensive and invasive and stuff. Yeah. She’s Deaf.”

“That’s… brutal.”

“Yeah, man. But I guess that sort of thing happens, y’know?” He crosses his arms behind his head and lays back. “I really don’t get why they stuck me in the highest security bloc in this joint. Like, I’m only supposed to be here for a month, tops.” He grins. “Anyway, I kinda got suckered into robbing an electronics store and destroyed some public property in the process? The judge was lenient ‘cause I was a biiiit under the influence of a Compulsion type Quirk. So, I was both Accomplice and Accessory to burglary and vandalism. Gotta tell you, the guy who Compelled me will be in jail for _years_ though. Just never expected that I was that uh… easily persuaded to break the law. Biggest eye opener, man. I knew I was impulsive, but that takes the cake.” He turns on the bed onto his side, raising himself up a bit on his arm. Natsume has yet to see him sit still. “So, what about you?”

Natsume simply looks at him.

“Aw, c’mon! I told you about me.” Kaminari sits up and leans forward. “I wanna know why someone looking as unassuming as you is stuck in here. No offense, but you don’t look like you’d hurt a fly. So…” He twirls a finger around in the air. “I don’t think you killed someone.”

“You’d be right,” Natsume deadpans.

He whines again. “At least give me a little hint?” He pinches his forefinger and thumb together. “A teeny tiny one?”

“I may or may not have made the news.”

Kaminari slaps his thigh. “That’s it! That’s why you look so familiar. Don’t worry, bro. They blurred out your face since you’re a minor and all. Is it true though that you’ve got _twenty-five misdemeanors, five serious—”_

“Yes. Can we… not talk about that?”

He sighs. “Okay, okay. So what do you call your Quirk? If it’s so destructive, how come _you’re_ not in Suppressors?”

“Because it was mis-categorized, and I’m not directly causing the damage,” Natsume answers, hands clenching on his jumpsuit.

“O-okay, man. I didn’t mean to upset you.” Flopping on his side again, Kaminari lets his head partially hang off the bed. His spikey hair is long enough that it’s touching the ground. “Gonna tell me what it’s called though? Pretty please?”

Natsume lets out a loud sigh. “Will you stop asking about my Quirk if I tell you?”

“Yes!!” Hands raised, he’s signing _Give, give!_ But it’s coming off really childish by how impatient he’s acting.

“It’s called Spirited Away.”

With a confused frown, Kaminari is sitting upright again. “What? That’s. Okay, I know I said I wouldn’t ask, but…”

“Figure it out for yourself.”

Swaying slightly to the right then the left as he thinks, Kaminari looks perturbed. Then says, “Like, literal, actual _Spiriting Away_. Like ayakashi and faries and stuff coming out of nowhere to carry you off into the wilds?”

“Pretty much.”

“ _Dude that is so completely weird and cool what the hell_. _How does that even work. Why does that even happen._ ”

Without answering because he would really rather that conversation ends, Natsume reaches for his tablet next to him, when Kaminari is suddenly in front of him, reaching out—probably to grab his shoulder saying something—but Natsume’s mind blanks as he wrenches back, knees brought up protectively, and pushes himself against the wall.

“Whoa, dude.” His bunkmate pulls his hand back and puts it behind his head. “Sorry. I didn’t realize-uh, sorry.” He’s waving his other hand around indiscriminately. He goes back to his bed and sits down. He doesn’t say anything after that.

Natsume takes in a deep breath and lets it out evenly. Waking up the tablet, he clicks on the next lesson on JSL and his heart settles.

* * *

“We’re both well-behaved, y’know? It doesn’t make sense otherwise.”

Natsume’s about to tell him his theory on why Kaminari was placed with him when the speaker buzzes, "Inmate 8990, please stand for inspection. You have a visitor."  
  
Confused, Natsume jerks upright and hops to his covered feet, while Kaminari groggily looks over to him. Despite his chattiness, he’s not a morning person. “Dude, were you expecting someone?”

Natsume shakes his head and moves to stand in the large circle outlined in the center of his cell. Then he raises both his arms out palms out, the titanium-strong plastic bracelets sliding down his thin forearms. They had kit him out with a heavier, hooded one-piece jumpsuit, lined with metal mesh. The bracelets weren’t just for cuffing him. Like his new lightweight Suppressor collar, they were supposed to sense dimensional warping—whatever that meant. He hears the solid steel door slide open, the officers enter, and the door recloses.  
  
They hook a Quirk suppression collar on him first before guiding his arms down and tapping one of the bracelets with a baton. The bracelets click together. Only after he's restrained do they check to see if he somehow stuffed anything in the giant onesie. Not that Natsume has any inclination to, but he understands procedure with the number of attempted jail breaks every month from the block of cells they lived in. This bloc is the only area that the monsters seem to have trouble reaching him, not that he’s told Kaminari yet. The other teen seems to be of the opinion that he’s stuck there because Natsume is there.

As limited as Natsume’s freedom was and the obnoxious amount of handling by the guards, Natsume actually likes the degree of certainty and this place has over his foster families. He eats three meals a day and has slept better here in this noisy place that lacked privacy than anywhere else. It helps that his cellmate respects his boundaries, too.  
  
Of course, the guards find nothing on him and tap the bracelet so they can pull the links apart. Pulling his arms to the front, they tap it again and he watches with keen interest when the two bracelets fuse together with another sturdy click. Huh. Fancy tech.

“Have fun!” Kaminari sings out with a wave of a hand, appearing unconcerned as Natsume is led out.

His mind is whirling with possibilities of who his visitor is. No way is it a relative or a potential foster family. Maybe it’s a state counselor about his future or somesuch.  All his scheduled Quirk therapy sessions were done with for the week, so he’s at a bit of a loss.

When he's led around the corner to the visitor area filled with tables, it’s with great surprise when the lights flicker and a loud shriek cuts across several guards' walkie-talkies before Natsume stumbles back a bit from a chilly hug he can't see. His bracelets separate and activate, covering his arms in metal mesh and linking seamlessly with his jumpsuit, just as designed. The clasp on the Suppressor clicks and slides off his shoulders, falling to the floor.

The guards are immediately on high alert as they snap up their specialized taser rods because the lights are flickering and the tech is activating.

“Hey, Rei,” Natsume says loud enough for security as he continues walking towards the visitor area looking indifferent. If he looks down, he’ll get a mouthful of black hair. “You really shouldn’t do that. The guards are already really twitchy. Really twitchy. I don’t want to be dragged back to solitary confinement again.”

There’s a soft hiss as the closest guard’s walkie-talkie lets out a static-filled hiccup, but after that the radios remain silent and not a single overhead light blinks. Rei grins emptiness up at Natsume and he can’t help but smile back at her.

“Stand down. This one seems to be a friendly,” the lead guard mutters into his walkie-talkie.  
  
"Natsume-kun!"   
  
He recognizes the green mop of hair as Midoriya waves at him with a short round-faced woman standing beside him and smiling. Their appearances were uncanny. She had to be his mom. She looks a little uncomfortable, but it’s probably because of the number of guards circling them in an obvious manner.  
  
"Oh. Uh, not to sound ungrateful, but what are you doing here, Midoriya?"

His ex-classmate blinks up at him and then exchanges a look with his mother who does a little shrug and blink back at him.

“I mean, I thought visitors here were reserved to family and special counsel.” Natsume feels a bit beat down when he says it, but something must show on his face because Midoriya is frantically talking with his hands again, too fast for Natsume to follow, and then stops when his mom nudges him lightly on the shoulder.

“Oh. Uh.” Midoriya smiles sheepishly as his eyes slide to Natsume’s right. “Oh! Yeah, I guess no one told you yet.” He waves his fists up and down. “It took some convincing and stuff but my mom is totally okay with your Quirk so, so, so.”

“Izuku, let him sit down first,” Midoriya’s mom says with laughter in her voice as Natsume takes a seat on the bolted-down bench, Rei’s chilliness still burning where she must be clinging to his arm. “Keep it short and sweet.”

“So, mom’s got Guardianship for you—” Just hearing that would have been enough to suck all the air out of Natsume’s chest by the suddenness of it but Midoriya’s not finished yet, “—And I brought a momento of your grandma that she—uh I mean, that will help with your problem. I think?”

Natsume’s eyes burn. “A momento of my grandmother’s?” He didn’t even know he had anything of his family, but then he never asked anyone. He never wanted to know if his relatives had sold everything of his parents off out of greed or not, never wanted to know if they threw away his grandmother’s things as badly as they talked about her.

“Yeah.” It’s a long narrow book with a green cover, obviously handmade and bound together with a thick cord.

Natsume reads the handwriting on the front, **_The Book of Friends_** as he flips through page after page of illegible scribbles and near-alien symbols. What is this? Well, it’s very clearly labeled. But, why would the monsters even want this?

“They’re names.”

That stops Natsume cold. “Names,” he repeats dumbly. Yeah. The monsters come screaming, asking for their names back. It only scared the crap out of him when he didn’t have a clue what they were talking about.

With a solemn look, Midoriya nods and leans in conspiratorially. With a very, very quiet voice, he whispers, “You should try beating them up.”

Natsume’s back straightens because if he wasn’t cornered he always ran, ran as fast as his legs could carry him away from the monsters. He was pretty good at giving them the slip if there were enough turns to lose them. “How…?” He glances to his right with a frown. It must be a ghost, but he _can’t see this one._

Midoriya juts his thumb at the table and points up. His mother looks up with a distant look to her eyes, but she’s smiling. “She’s… unorthodox to say the least.”

Blinking furiously, Natsume looks up at thin air too. “Let me guess, long blond hair, high school uniform, wields a bat?”

His ex-classmate sits back in stunned shock as his mom pats his shoulder comfortingly. Now it was Midoriya’s turn to gape.

“I see her… sometimes,” Natsume says at his hands holding the book. “I never knew who it was. Is it… is it _Reiko_?”

Midoriya nods and they both give him considerable silence to process everything he’s feeling about the revelations, but when he feels like he can he looks up at them. “Thank you.”

“no, no,” Midoriya starts, but his mother intervenes again.

“You’re very welcome, Natsume-kun. Oh dear, I haven’t properly introduced myself, have I? Since my son absolutely dominates the conversation whenever he’s excited.” There’s not a bit of anger or resentment in this statement that Natsume typically would expect to be negative. She smiles happily. “I’m Midoriya Inko. My Quirk isn’t related at all to what either of you can do, but I’m happy to assist however I can.” She sets a marker across from Natsume, raises her hand, and mimes a ‘pulling’ motion until it’s resting in her hand. “See?”

“Cool.”

She lets out a sigh. “Yeah, it’s not very impressive, but it’s handy. I’m sure when I get really old I’ll really appreciate it then.”

It’s Natsume’s turn to blink because that was too self-deprecating. “I’d rather have a simple one like yours that people can see.”

Her face softens considerably as she glances at Midoriya, who simply gives her a toothy, knowing grin.

“And, you know, the lack of monsters would be nice.”

“Uh, that reminds me,” Midoriya begins tentatively. “Uh, they keep a suppressor on you whenever you leave your cell? I mean, they know you don’t actually have psychokinesis, so…”

“They said standard protocol or something, but it’s probably because it seems to… stop the monsters attacking as often?” Natsume shrugs. “They showed me a chart, and if it helps it helps.”

Midoriya is frowning as his hands are a blur of movement directed at Natsume’s left this time. “Huh. Wonder if that’s part of your Quirk, getting their attention simply by noticing them or if it’s a some scent you give off that attracts them—that’s kind of a strange thought though, since a suppressor like that only works on operative-type Quirks not heteromorphic ones and—”

“You have about five minutes left,” the closest guard states, interrupting Midoriya’s start to a long monologue.

That quieted them for a moment. Natsume draws the book towards himself. “Do you know how to give them back?”

Midoriya’s mom looks confused by the question and so does Midoriya. “Give what back? Ow! Hey!” His head swivels to the side as his hands go up to his head. “That hurt—oh, huh.” Midoriya turns back to Natsume with a serious expression. “She doesn’t know how to give them back. It’s not something she thought she had to do. It was just a game to collect them.” His face grows sadder by the second, but he doesn’t elaborate.

Natsume pushes the book back to him. “It’s best if you keep this then. Rei would be better equipped to protect it than I would.”

Lights flicker at Natsume’s words as Rei jumps into the air excitedly hovering around Midoriya’s head, hands moving proudly. _Protect the friends, I protect!_

“Thanks, Rei,” Natsume says accidentally cutting off Midoriya’s spoken translation, while he also speaks with his hands towards Natsume’s direct left. _Let me tell him. Rei said he thinks he’s alone._

Natsume frowns. He knows about Reiko now, and it does help some to know someone is there who understands the monsters even if he can’t talk to them. He slowly signs because the gloves are an unfamiliar weight. _Tell me what?_

Midoriya’s mom inhales sharply, covering her mouth. She exchanges a look with her son. “Izuku…”

Turning with a strongly firm look at the cackling Rei— _A surprise! Natsume’s surprise!_ —Midoriya levels his head with a determined expression. Natsume is a little bit scared of that face. _Not just Reiko’s here. Your parents._

Natsume’s heart feels like it drops to his feet. He props himself up with his elbows and puts his head in his hands, feeling like his world is spinning. The metal mesh covering his hands is cooler than the flush of shame on his face and then dread seeps in.

“They’re proud of you. Even at the worst moments of your life, you try to do good.”

A long silence happens where Natsume is fighting with himself, unpleasant thoughts roaring through his head. He can believe how hard it could be to try to speak for the dead when the living still grieves. Midoriya’s got nerves of steel to say anything at all. “I’m sorry,” Natsume says hoarsely into his hands. “I can’t do this right now.”

He glances up and sees that both mother and son have eyes that are filled with the sheen of unshed tears. Midoriya nods. “Okay.”

“Time’s up,” the lead guard says.

Midoriya’s mom says, “We’ll see you next weekend, if that’s okay?”

“Yeah,” Natsume mutters, hands still holding his face. He forces himself to stand up. “Midoriya… Thanks.” The guards surround him and he goes quietly back to the cell. Before he enters, a guard taps a different baton against the mesh on his arms and it slides back into bracelets again.

Kaminari greets him, but Natsume can barely respond as he makes a beeline for his bed. Flopping down he curls up with his pillow.

“That bad, huh?”

Natsume’s shoulders shake and he buries his face into the pillow, unable to hold the tears back any longer.

“Aw, man,” Kaminari says, sounding a lot closer now, but Natsume has stopped caring. “It’s gonna be okay. Whatever it is. It’s good to cry it out, bro.” Kaminari is hovering but he’s not touching him, which is a good thing because that’s the last thing Natsume needs right now. “I’m right here if you need anything. Anything at all.”

When the hacking sobs subside and his eyes stop leaking, his body is shivering because he’s _cold_. Before he can shift to grab his, a blanket drops on top of him. Natsume rolls his head back to look at the grinning Kaminari, who shoots him a thumbs up.

“I’ve got you _covered_ , bro!”

Natsume snorts.

“What? I’m hilarious. Where I’m from, I’m the pun king. The Pun Fu Master!” Kaminari raises a leg and both arms up making weird noises that he most definitely must have heard from martial arts movies.

Why was this Natsume’s life now? He covers his face and rubs at his raw eyes.

“ah! You smiled!”

“Did I?” Natsume frowns.

“You did! I saw you. Now, do it again! Again!”

Natsume lets out a loud huff and rolls onto his side again. Even so, Kaminari keeps going, and Natsume can’t stop the smile he keeps plastered in the pillow. He thinks he might have another friend. Taking a great breath, he sits up again, holding the blanket around him. “Kaminari—”

“Denki. I told you to call me Denki, bro.”

“Denki,” Natsume repeats grimly to a too-excited whoop. “I’m not a ward of the state anymore.”

“Whoa! Good going!!” Kaminari gives him a double thumbs up, jerking it back and forth in his enthusiasm. Then confusion passes over his face and he drops his hands. “Are they no good?”

“What?”

Kaminari waves his hands around. “You came back upset, bro! You were crying not ten minutes ago!!”

Natsume feels the red flush spread up his neck and face. “I just… I just think of how my dad—my parents would react to seeing me like this, in here. A lot of people have been hurt because of my Quirk. I just...”

“Ah.” Kaminari lands heavily on his bed. “I get scared too. Having a powerful Quirk, especially one you don’t have any control over… That sounds incredibly hard to deal with. At least I can practice mine.” He lets sparks swirl over his hand, before letting them fly up with a crackle-pop of discharge.

“Dr. Utsushida has been helping. There’s some other methods they want to try too…”

“Is that why they’ve got you in a new, cool getup?”

“Cool?” Natsume echoes.

“Yeah, it kinda looks like a Hero costume… or really fancy pajamas.”

Natsume throws the blanket at him.

“Hey!” He only struggles out from under it for a bit before his bright yellow hair pops out. “It’s a fair point, since you’re always in them. Like, did they give you spares or have you seriously worn that for five days straight now. ‘Cause that’s…” Kaminari wrinkles his nose.

“I have spares!! It’s not my fault they all look the same!”

Kaminari starts laughing, bowled over in amusement. Natsume’s anger wanes as he watches him laugh. “Dude, you are so easy to rile up!” He wipes his eyes and grins at him. _A good guy like you deserves family_ , he signs cleanly.

Natsume blinks and then points at himself.

 _Yes, you_! Kaminari rolls his eyes. _Now, talk about them! I want to know._

“A single mom and her only son. I guess she queried because her son was in the same class I was in before the attack.”

_Their quirks?_

“She’s got minor telekinesis and he can talk to ghosts.”

“Whoa! Cool!!! Like real-life actual ghosts?”

“Are there any other kinds?” Natsume gives him a look.

“Wait, wait, wait, wait. So, when the lights went out on my first day and you were signing ‘Get lights on!’ were you talking to a _ghost_? You can see ghosts too?! Oh man, oh man, this-is-so-cool.”

“Only poltergeists. There’s more ghosts around that I can’t see that he can.”

“oooooh, so your Quirks _are_ related! COOL.”

Thankfully, Kaminari continues enthusing over how lucky Natsume is to find a family who has a member with a similar Quirk, and doesn’t ask if Natsume has ghosts of his own.

Having such an energetic friend really has helped Natsume’s overall mood, and he hopes they stay friends upon their release. Because Natsume has grown more confident that he might actually be able to fight back if given the chance.

He hopes his grandmother is right about fighting back because if that doesn’t work…


	3. Dagoba Quirk R&C Facility (Part 2)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Kaminari is a total DIY electronics junkie. Apologies to people who are as lost as Natsume.

Lately with Kaminari around, Natsume hasn’t been bored. In addition to interesting conversations and a boundless energy, his cellmate also makes things. Usually, it's sculptures made out of trash or other odds and ends he had collected before it was ultimately confiscated.

Today though, a sheepish Natsume sits on his bed and watches Kaminari harshly scribble on strips of paper with a short, old-fashioned pencil before taping straightened staples to them. His cellmate would hold them up by the bits of metal, frown, and shake his head before repeating the process all over again.

Kaminari already had a stack of these; some had even been made in their classes. Many of the doodled-on paper strips are so long that he had rolled them up like a banner, sticking his tongue out as he concentrated. Each one is labeled with a number and a mysterious Ω symbol. So far he had a 10Ω, a 150Ω, a 1KΩ, a 1.35kΩ, a 4.7kΩ, three 10KΩ, and a 15KΩ. At present, he's working on one extremely long strip of paper, while Natsume watches over the screen of his tablet.

Natsume’s curiosity piques because none of these materials besides the staples were contraband per se. But, he doesn’t want to interfere or bother him, so whenever Kaminari looks up to roll his shoulders and sigh, Natsume quickly looks back at his tablet. Soon, Lights’ Out curfew is announced over the speaker via automated voice, and Natsume turns off the tablet and pulls up his blanket. He goes to sleep in the dimmed light of their cell to the near-silent crackling of Kaminari’s Quirk.

The next day has Kaminari building something new, apparently before Natsume even woke up. This time with strips of wax paper and aluminum foil he had somehow procured. It makes Natsume wonder if Kaminari stole the box of staples or bartered for them, but it’s a complete mystery since Natsume isn’t bold enough to ask.

The process of whatever he’s doing takes longer, and this time he makes a tag on a teeny tiny one where he taped together specks of aluminum foil on either side of wax paper. To the foil bits, he attaches a broken off staple leg sticking out in opposite directions and then tape goes over that. There’s a 0.05µF on that one. Kaminari repeats the process with larger pieces and writes 0.1µF, 10µF on one that’s bigger than that and 250µF and even bigger than that.

“Phew. Guess it’s time for breakfast huh?” He slides the weird objects under his pillow with the others and pats it.

Curiosity growing stronger, Natsume nods and sets down his tablet. The intercom in the brick lets out a droning bell with an automated voice declaring the time and that they would be escorted to breakfast in minutes. They both stand in their circle and wait for their door to open. The guards come in, and both of them receive their Quirk suppressors, and then the guards exit. Other prisoners, most in either quirk suppressors—or literal chains if they’ve recently tried to break out—walk by the door and Kaminari calls out to one of them, darting out. “Hey! Sen!”

Stepping out of their cell, Natsume blinks at the small, pale, shorn-headed kid with reddish hair. He frowns when he sees the lush, wiry eyebrows. No, he corrects himself, ‘Sen’ literally had metal growing out of his head instead of hair, though it’s been cut close to his skull. He wonders if the kanji is literally 線 for wire.

Kaminari has something in his palm and as he shakes Sen’s hand. Whatever it is disappears and a wrapped paper bundle is passed to him. “Thanks, man! See ya in class.” The package disappears into Kaminari’s jumpsuit same as his bundle is quickly tucked away in Sen’s.

Sen waves him off turning to his friend with six eyes and extra thumbs, asking for his guess on the weather. Thumb guy raises his fingers like a dowsing rod and intones, “Rain.”

Breakfast is normal, except today seems especially cheap since they’re served rice porridge, canned fruit, and natto. It’s the latter that has Natsume frantically waving the staff worker not to plate up for him.  Kaminari carries their conversation while Natsume’s mind keeps being drawn back to the things his cellmate has made and what overarching purpose they were for. It’s only when inmates are throwing away their used utensils and bowls after breakfast that another object is stuffed into Kaminari’s jumpsuit. This time it’s a foam bowl. Even though he’s used to seeing him collect trash, Natsume gives him a weird look, because _why_ would he need that, and Kaminari shrugs, saying “I wiped it out.”

Class is way too easy and boring. It’s not until their third subject that Natsume looks over to his cellmate; he’s carefully tying a bundle of pencil lead (How do you crack open a pencil without breaking the lead?) together with a piece of random string or thread, which kind of looks like someone had pulled it from a fraying seam of their uniform.

Natsume blinks when Kaminari abruptly looks up with a grin and rolls the pencil lead up in paper before shoving it into his jumpsuit. He throws a thumbs up at the classroom guard who had noticed. However, instead of a normal confiscation and write-up, the guard’s head tips and then he smiles. Natsume wonders how the other teen managed to charm the guy who was known for confiscating suspicious objects. Seriously, how did he do it?

During lunch, Kaminari speed-walks up to a bulky inmate with what looked like cloudy quartz sticking out from his jaw, skull, elbows, knuckles, and probably everywhere else there was a joint. “Suishou! It’s good to see you! How’re you holding up?” They chat about nothing in particular before Kaminari hands him all four milk cartons he had somehow collected from other inmates and the special fried croquette they only get once a month.  Natsume sits down with them and inexplicably other inmates seem to swell towards them, creating obvious blindspots.

The guy grins, and his teeth look like pure crystal too. “Thanks, buddy. Here. They’re the best ones I got.” He calmly hands Natsume’s cellmate a torn sock weighed with small coins(?) which clink dully instead of the tinny sound of expected metal. The bulging outline didn’t give much away. “Hope your project works,” he grins again before standing as the other inmates disperse when guards start breaking them up. Riots and fights weren’t uncommon. Crowds made them as twitchy as Natsume’s monsters did.

By the time they disperse, the sock is nowhere in sight. Kaminari grins and eats his plate of vegetables. Natsume, without asking, pushes half of his croquette onto his plate.

“Aw, you’re the best, man!”

“You say that to everyone.”

Natsume only gets a blinding grin in response, while his cellmate happily bites into the crunch-encased meat.

They attend more classes that are far too easy, which lets Natsume’s mind drift too much and spends much of that time fixated on Kaminari’s ‘project’. Afterwards they return to their cell block trailed by others. Their Quirk Suppressors are removed, but as soon as the door to their cell closes, Kaminari whips out the hoard from his jumpsuit onto his blanket.

Sometime between classes or when Natsume wasn’t looking, Kaminari also had procured a couple hexagonal nuts, a small container of some unknown substance, a square piece of metal that looked oddly chewed, a machine bolt, another pencil, a makeshift frame with weirdly colored lenses taped to it, a cylindrical stick of plastic(?), five or six coins stuck together, and a small bundle of dull wire in addition to his other odds and ends.

Natsume honestly doesn’t know what’s up, but he’s not one to shy away from challenge. “Hey, is there anything I can do?”

At this point, Kaminari has unwrapped the bundle from Sen because he had a long, but very skinny, red wire between his two fingers and he was sticking his tongue out in concentration. “Hm? Oh. Uh. Make piles of 30 of these and set them aside?”

Natsume does as he asks pulling the fine wires (hair?) towards him and starts plucking up the strands. He hears his cellmate moving things around and then settle back on his haunches oddly quiet. When Natsume looks at him, he’s looking back with a serious expression, weird sunglasses (?) perched on top of his head.

“Okay. Natsume, don’t look this way; you can hurt your eyes.” Kaminari has pulled down the sunglasses and doesn’t move until Natsume nods at him. “Might be better if you turn yourself around so you don’t peek!”

After doing as asked and bending down to count out the strands, bright light flashes off the walls as something starts sizzling. Natsume _is_ curious but he doesn’t look.

“There!” Kaminari pushes the sunglasses up and shows off the machine bolt screwed into two nuts that were neatly melted(?) to the small metal piece. But it doesn’t really look like the nuts or metal square had melted to get them stuck together.

“Soldering is complete.” He puts his hand under his chin thoughtfully. “I could solder the connections together too. Then I don’t have to worry about added impedance by twisting wire, not that it would add much but this circuit’s going to be noisy enough. Since I don’t have a decent PCB.”

Natsume blinks at him.

“Printed circuit board. Heck, even a bread board would be welcome at this point, though the added capacitance might be a problem.” He shrugs. “What I really wish I had is an op-amp IC—even something old like an LM386—and an inductor coil. Ugh. Making those are going to be a _pain_. Even worse? No NPNs or PNPs!! I could have whipped up a frequency oscillator instead of using a noisy coil.” He frowns at the sock.

“…Electronics?”

“Bingo!” Kaminari points his fingers, shooting them off. “My dad’s kinda like a maintenance worker so he showed me some stuff. I’m not any good at calculating this stuff, but I have a pretty good memory for schematics.”

Natsume finally asks hesitantly, “What are you trying to make?”

“You’ll see!” Kaminari gets a wildly delighted look on his face when Natsume sends him an irritated frown.  “Hey, you done sorting those out?”

“Mostly?”

“Good! Lemme check them out.” Kaminari pulls the nearest pile to him, putting a finger at each end and then sticks his tongue out. “Hmmmmm.” Then he plucks out two strands and does it again. “Perfect! Hey, so, after I do this I’ll need you to coat them with this,” He passes the small jar of fingernail polish(?) to Natsume, who nods, “but not the ends! Those need to be exposed. When you finish the fifth one, go back to the first and coat it again. I’ll need about ten that have a single strand sticking out on one side, so don’t push it back in, kay?”

They work quietly—or as quiet as Kaminari ever gets with his humming and sudden bursts of giggle-cackling as he either adds or subtracts strands from the piles Natsume made. Once Natsume finishes coating five of the first type of stranded bundles and starts over with the first one, Kaminari has cut out weird holes in the foam bowl—using a pencil of all things. The remainder of the bowl almost looks like a peace sign except the holes are in the sides, but it tickles Natsume’s brain as he tries to figure out what it’s supposed to be. He moves onto the other piles coating them as well.

Kaminari then picks up the stack of coins and wraps a tiny piece of paper around them taping the paper and then lets the coins drop out. He takes up the digit-thick, plastic cylinder, sparks his Quirk, and dots a drop of the melted plastic to the middle of the foam bowl. On that he pushes the coins against. Watching his cellmate use the cylinder, Natsume thinks it’s a glue stick for hot glue. Where did he get it?? It’s like he raided the teacher’s utility closet for staples, tape, and hot glue.

From under his mattress, Kaminari pulls out a very thin stack of wavy notebook paper in the shape of a lopsided circle. He holds it up, pursing his lips. “Ugh. Whatever. This should do.” He repeats the process with the stick, dotting the center of it, and then sticks the tube of paper into it. “Hey, you done with the first one?”

Blinking, Natsume nods and hands it over.

Kaminari quickly coils the wire around the middle of the paper tube, starting with the center of the wire and turning it until he had two ends left. He threads the ends of wire through the holes in the foam bowl and then sets the page on top of the bowl, so that the paper tube is directly over the coins.

It clicks when he sees the finished product. “…Is that a speaker,” Natsume asks flatly.

“Pretty much, yep!” Kaminari does a ‘ta-da!’ movement with his hands.

“Are you making something for the tablet?”

“Nope! You’ll see.”

Natsume gets another grin, and a v-bent piece of a broken plastic fork handle they had during lunch is shoved under the machine bolt, the bottom edges wedged against the nuts that had been soldered to the chewed-looking metal square. Then another wire is taken and wrapped around the end of the bolt sticking out from the nuts. Kaminari frowns down at it for a moment. “I’m forgetting something.”

“You know, I have this tablet so we could look up whatever you’re trying to make.”

“It’s just been a while since I fixed that old timey radio.” He taps his chin and then snaps his fingers. Quickly bending the end of the wire in towards where the other end of the wire where coil started stuck out, he dropped his weird sunglasses over his eyes again as he gathers up the bundle of dull wire and presses the end to where the red wire touched itself. “Look away, my man!”

Natsume quickly looks towards the wall and sparks sizzle.

“One more!”

Natsume waits patiently as more flashing light happens.

“All good!”

A different colored metal, silver-ish, is melted where the red wire is touching itself. And there’s another droplet of the same metal connecting another red wire to a spot between the nuts on the metal square.

“It’s _perfect._ ” He inspects his handiwork practically glowing with happiness.

“Uh,” Natsume utters a little lost at how excited Kaminari was. “What…?”

“A variable capacitor,” Kaminari answers and sets it down. Then, he unwraps the bundle with the pencil leads, which are miraculously still whole and unbroken even after being carried around since their second class. A rubber band seems to have materialized on Kaminari’s wrist too.

“Mm?”

“What are you using that for?”

“A POT, man! We’ll need some volume control.” Kaminari tilts his head. “Sorry. I forget not everyone grew up taking stuff apart. This’ll be the main part of the variable resistor. Volume control happens when you’re able to control the size of the voltage drop—well, in this circuit anyway,” Kaminari hastily adds, “I mean, there are other ways to do volume control but they’re either very, very finicky ‘cause the control is non-linear and requires another circuit to make it easier on the user or it uses current and let’s just say I don’t exactly have the materials for that. Graphite is much, much easier to get.” He rolls the bundle in his palm, which leaves behind gray streaks. “And so you connect the end of this to a wire and then the other wire is connected to a slider that runs along the pencil lead, so you change the resistance when you move the slider. That way you can make the audio signal weaker or stronger depending on which way you go.”

“Ah.” Natsume’s trying hard not to look _more_ lost as he watches Kaminari fiddle with the bundle, hooking a thick rubber band around the middle that he then test-slides one way or another. He lightly twists several wire strands together and bends it into a ring shape small enough to sit inside the rubber band. He slides it back onto the bundle and though the wire strands don’t stay put he looks pleased. Then, he sets the whole assemblage down.

Then he grabs up the pencil and another polish-coated wire and starts another coil, but this time he seems pretty preoccupied with the space between turns and the number of times the coil goes around. After that, he pulls it off the pencil and holds each end, squinting. “Ugh, god. This is awful.” He rolls the coil between his fingers as he inspects it and then sighs. “This is why you shouldn’t make inductors out of stranded wires, Takkun. Soild wires, my man.”

Natsume solemnly nods, trying not to feel weird because of the nickname. Kaminari had a thing for nicknames. It had been really only a matter of time that he settled on one for him.

“But I’m lucky enough I even have any wires. It’ll have to do.” Picking up his mattress again, he pulls out a folded piece of paper and unfolds it. Then he pushes things out of the way since it’s at least half a meter both ways, smoothing it out on the ground. Then he takes up a strand of red hair that Natsume hadn’t sorted out. “Alright, next up. I’ll have you make a labyrinth with this. Make sure it doesn’t touch itself.”

“Like that game Snake?”

“Wow, yeah. Just like that! I didn’t peg you for liking the classics.”

Natsume blushes a bit. “A friend showed me on the ‘net.” It was a long time ago, but the memory was still bright in its fuzzy corner.

Kaminari nods. “Browser games are no fuss no muss. I get it. Pong and its spin-offs are my guilty pleasure. So,” he gestures to the paper and the wire he hands to Natsume, “Coating the paper to make it stick would probably be easier. Then, you’ll need to coat the wire with that stuff again so it’ll be protected. When you get to the end of the strand, get another strand and make sure they overlap a little and touch so that they make a connection. Don’t worry about coating that bit either since I might solder it later. Keep going ‘til this sheet is full but make sure there’s one end left uncovered, okay? I’m gonna finish the POT next.” He picks up the glue stick of solid plastic after removing the rubber band and untying the bundle of pencil lead, Then he proceeds to glue the lead together so it’s surrounding the glue center.

Turning his focus on the paper and wire, Natsume stares down on the really meticulous, but tedious work he’d been entrusted. It’s not until someone’s prodding his shoulder that he finally looks up. The paper is only halfway full. “Oh, hi, Rei.”

 _What are you doing_? She says with short gestures while she floats over him, hanging sideways.

“Uh. I’m sticking a really long, thin wire to this?”

 _Why_? She asks with a confused head tilt.

“I… don’t know?”

“It’s for the antennae, Rei-chan,” Kaminari answers breezily having deduced what Natsume was being asked, “A vital part of our project.”

Natsume straightens and winces when his neck aches. As he rubs his neck, he’s looking over at Kaminari who’s working on something else now. He’s got an itty-bitty, cloudy crystal wafer sitting on top of a piece of foam. Aluminum foil is coating both sides of the crystal, and he’s sticking a second strand to join another on top of the foil on the crystal. He squints to focus his eyes on whatever it is. The strands are basically touching, but barely not.

Rei moves to hover over Kaminari who seems completely engrossed in his task. _What is he doing_? Her hands move fluidly.

 _Good as mine, your guess would be,_ Natsume haltingly signs. He sees that everything else his cellmate has made has been squirrelled away, in his bed maybe? There are four other metal-covered crystals with tiny wires glued to them and another wire coming from the other side of them.

When Kaminari sits up, he wipes his forehead. “Okay, that should be all the NPNs.”

“What?”

“Er. Well they’re really more like really old-fashioned, super fragile transistors. And since I can’t measure the distance between the cat whiskers I’m really flying blind. Also, gold flake would’ve been the best, in both thinness and conductivity so I’m not sure if it’s going to work. What I wouldn’t give for some MOS-FETs, CMOS ICs to be specific. Course I’d be super happy with a BJT at this rate. Sigh.” At Natsume’s blank look, Kaminari’s lips curl up. “Transistors, bro. Transistors. If anything fails, it’s gonna be these.” Kaminari holds his fist out. “Could you coat the middle of this for me? I’m worried that stray charges will mess with its capacitance since it’s so tiny. Would be better if I could insulate it more, but…”

Natsume accepts the tiniest component of whatever Kaminari is making, the one labeled 0.05µF. “Sure.” As soon as he’s finished, he sets it aside and sees that Kaminari is completely engrossed with another crystal. He looks up at Rei who’s been silently observing everything and then signs, _Tell your little brother, I do well. And my roommate is a mad scientist._

A staticky giggle rushes through the room, and the lights flicker. _I will!_ And she’s gone.

“Is she doing that creepy laugh again because I have goosebumps for no reason,” Kaminari states, having no comment for the lights.

“She did. She went back home.”

“Good to know.” He sits back with a sigh and a determined look. “If you’re done with the antennae, I’ve got nothing left for you. I’m going to try building the circuit now. Lots of soldering, so. Wish me luck!”

Dutifully, Natsume stands and takes a seat on his bed facing the wall, scooping up his tablet. The flashing flickers on the wall as he clicks on a book on basic electronics. It turns out to be a dry read, but is much more engaging than his earlier classes had been. He’s rather amazed that Kaminari has jerry-rigged so many components out of everyday objects. Of course they’re not going to last long and it’s going to be ‘noisy’ if it even works. The first introductory chapter had said as much.

The second chapter in is when Natsume realizes why Kaminari can even attempt to make a DIY electronics project. When he was pinching the ends of his components, Kaminari had been measuring resistance like he was an ohmmeter. He could test that his capacitor, the wax paper and aluminum foil bits, was working if he was using an ohmmeter-like ability, but _measuring_ capacitance was trickier and not easy without a multifunctional meter.

This meant that Kaminari could very finely control the flow of electrons in his body and measure that flow. Natsume isn’t sure if Kaminari does that by changing the resistance of his body or in some other way, but it’s impressive to think about anyway. 

Natsume is still trying to understand the fundamentals behind a PN junction in chapter four, and why two diodes didn’t make a transistor when Kaminari announces, “Finished! Wanna see if it works, bro?”

He looks down to see what looks like an ungodly tangle of wires and soldered joints. The paper-backed antennae is perched against the wall on Kaminari’s bed.  
“Sure. Uh, can I ask you something?”

“Yeah. What’s up?” Kaminari leans back, straightening his legs out with a wince. He quickly covers it with an easy smile.

“Can you differentiate between AC and DC current?”

“Yup! As long as I use one hand for voltage, it’ll be DC, no rectifier needed bro. Let’s try this out!” Very carefully, his cellmate drops a forefinger onto one open-ended wire and aims his thumb for the other with a frown of concentration.

As soon as his thumb makes contact, the speaker crackles, sputtering in ways reminiscent of Rei. “Okay so we’ve got flow that’s _really_ good news. Cool. Could you try turning that bolt?”

Natsume reaches down and turns the bolt encased by wire and the hexagonal nuts, the speaker lets out a really loud crackle, but nothing happens.

“Hmmmm.” Bottom lip tucked between his teeth, Kaminari quickly places the forefinger and middle fingers of his other hand, in parallel to each component. “Good, good, good, good, good, good, good,” he mutters to himself as his fingers seem to dance from one pair of solder joints to another. At an aluminum-covered wafer with one strand touching the top, he very carefully touches the ends. “Diode’s good.” Then he very carefully hovers at the first triple-wired transistor, moving his fingers around deftly. Then he drops that hand and hangs his head with a deep sigh. “…….Well. It _was_ a long shot.”

He lets go and the speaker dies. He disconnects the antennae, the variable capacitor, and the speaker, and sweeps the tangle to the side. “Too fragile,” he explains to Natsume’s concerned face. “I was afraid of that. I barely jostled it during soldering, and it ruined them.” He lets out a loud, frustrated moan and drops the salvaged components into his lap. He scratches the fingers of both hands in opposite directions through his hanging head. “Maaaaan, I was hoping to surprise you!”

“We can try again?” He didn’t like seeing Kaminari disappointed, but the other teen bounces back as if used to failure.

“Nah, bro. Backup plan’s a better idea. Fewer moving parts so to speak, so less chance of failure.”

The brick crackles to life with the same bell and automated voice from this morning. Kaminari quickly scoops up the parts he salvaged from the defunct circuit leaving the rest out in the open on the ground. He hands Natsume the sock of crystal wafers, the remaining bundle of stranded wires, the ‘variable capacitor’, and the antennae. “Please take care of these.”

Frowning with his heart in his throat, Natsume quickly squirrels them away like he had seen other inmates do. He hopes that it doesn’t look too weird since he has no pockets. Both the sock and the coiled machine bolt occupy the most uncomfortable part, with the sock sitting on top of the smaller, but pointier variable capacitor: his underwear. He hopes he’s not caught. It’s embarrassing enough as it is.

Meanwhile, his cellmate has picked the speaker up, spinning it between both hands, and then turns the bowl facing out. Without a word, he shoves it into the crotch of his jumpsuit as if it were protective padding. “When they’re distracted, get outta here. You can do that for me, right bro?”

Natsume nods. When Kaminari gives him a wink, places his hands on his hips, and juts it at an angle to make the speaker bulge obnoxiously, Natsume feels his ears heat in secondhand embarrassment.

“Yep! This’ll do,” Kaminari grins while they move to their painted circles and wait.

The guards come in to cuff Kaminari and collar Natsume before they stop short at the pile of wire and paper and aluminum foil on the ground. One of the guards chuckles and scoops it up. Crystal wafers clink to the ground as they wrench free of their weak aluminum-foiled prisons. “Kumon said you were up to something. What’s all this?”

“An op-amp circuit with a potentiometer for volume control, an LC bandpass filter, and a filtering circuit for the op-amp.”

“Huh.” The guard looks over it, trying to hide a slightly impressed look. “Well, you know you’re not supposed to have any of this.”

“Oh? Oops. My bad, Mr. Yamazaki.”

The guard shakes his head, tucking the bundle under his arm and then gives a look at the other guard. They both check the beds, leaving only Natsume’s tablet behind. Everything else they find is in Kaminari’s bed and is promptly confiscated.

“You know, they have one in the library,” the other guard says with a wry grin.

One what?, Natsume thinks.

“The only show worth listening to comes on at night, Mr. Nozomi!” Kaminari declares with a scandalous tone.

“And there are recordings you can listen to online. At the library,” Mr. Nozomi counters. “I know you’re a huge fan of Present Mic, but you know radios, homemade or otherwise, aren’t allowed back here.”

Natsume watches the exchange carefully, trying not to move. Kaminari had been trying to make a radio? Also, he recognizes that name. The Pro Hero with the amplified voice Quirk. Now that he thinks about it, Kaminari’s hair is kind of styled after that Pro Hero’s. He even grew it out to try to match the length.

“It’s not the same,” Kaminari whines, waving his fists up and down in childish frustration.

Mr. Yamazaki narrows his eyes at him. His eyes drop and then his expression grows sterner. “What did you stuff in your pants?” He holds out a hand, and a grumbling Kaminari very slowly retrieves the speaker from his jumpsuit.

Immediately both guards take it and put their heads together as they pull the paper plate up and inspect it.

“Good lord,” Mr. Nozomi murmurs, “Is this a speaker?”

While Mr. Yamazaki is trying to pull the coins apart and failing miserably by the sound of them pulling away from the foam bowl, Kaminari makes a head tilt towards the door and a subtle shooing motion towards Natsume.

So, he turns and walks out without batting an eye. Silver bangs in his face with his head slightly down, his face is bright red as the weight in his underwear hits each side of his thighs. The things people do for friendship.

It’s not until Natsume is waiting in line for food that Kaminari finally appears, practically glowing and animated. Natsume gives him a look.

Using the din of the cafeteria to cover his voice, Kaminari pats Natsume’s shoulder—accidentally sending a light shock into him in the process—and says, “I got the final components. You and I are going to make a crystal radio set tonight. It will be glorious.”

It’s not just him getting a shock from a humming Kaminari. He’s obliviously chuckling to himself here and there with far-away eyes, but Natsume sees the other inmates with a variety of not-angry expressions rubbing where Kaminari has touched them in friendly contact. Natsume’s eyes drift to the slowly blinking cuffs and wonders if they burned out or what as he very carefully sits down on the bench.

Then Kaminari makes a noise when he tries to pick up his meat bun. He sucks on a finger. “Damn, I’m too happy if I’m collecting static this badly. Huh.” He places his dominant hand, the hand that had taken the shock, on the metal table and proceeds to eat clumsily left-handed. He grins at Natsume’s concerned expression. “I’ve got enough control nowadays that I can disperse extra charge, but with these cuffs on…” He shrugs.

As they continue their meal, Natsume keeps shifting trying to keep the contraband payload from sliding back to where he really, really doesn’t want it. But the underwear is a bit too form-fitting, by design likely to deter people from cramming items in them, so he ends up shifting again and again.

“Hey, so thanks for holding onto that stuff,” Kaminari says with a smooth nonchalance.

Natsume just wants to bury his face into his rice. Can people die from embarrassment?.

“I didn’t want to ask you to, but Nozomi’s got a Quirk that makes it easy to do his job: X-ray Vision. After seeing how they pat you down, I didn’t think he could see very well through your jumpsuit. I made sure they were distracted so they didn’t pat you down this time. It helps you didn’t leave acting all sneaky-like.” He throws a thumbs-up, left-handed since he keeps himself grounded with his right. “Bro, you’re the best buddy.” The smile is wide and kilo-watt.

Natsume blinks, feeling blinded by it, because, well, that explained why they never gave a pat down to Kaminari. He had honestly thought it had something to do with his extreme charm.

“You’re so precious that I wanna adopt you,” Kaminari continues easily while Natsume’s ears burn, “But, I don’t think you’d appreciate having five other annoying siblings. Especially since our home’s kinda small and it’s three to a room. And all but one have electrical quirks. You can _taste_ the ozone when we’re all together, and that’s so unhealthy, bro. Even with all the DIY ventilation systems we installed.”

A pleasant chill runs down Natsume’s arms at the thought of _belonging,_ and he shifts again. “It doesn’t sound bad at all. It’s nice to have a place to belong, even if it’s on the small side.”

For whatever reason, Kaminari splutters a bit. He raises a fist to cover his mouth as he clears his throat. “Uh. Yeah. Well, if your new foster family is near Tokyo, come visit me sometime, bro.”

Natsume agrees, politely ignoring the furtive glances the other teen keeps sending. They finish their meal and clean up. Then they go back to the cell.

As soon as their suppressors are removed and they’re alone, Kaminari shoves a hand down his jumpsuit and retrieves several components of the same type and what looks like a pair of really old-style earbuds.

Natsume isn’t sure what it is even though he spent over an hour reading that electronics book, but the information hasn’t really stuck yet. The component looks like a bead of colored glass between two wires.

“This’ll take no time at all, now that I got some authentic diodes and _this_!”  Ah, that’s right. Diode. Where the hell did he get that? The earbuds and diodes had to have been definitely smuggled into the facility. “High-impedance speakers. I don’t even have to run power through the circuit. I can just sit back and enjoy the show!”

“Mm.” Natsume gently pulls out the folded antennae which he wrapped around the bundle of wires and hands them to an eagerly awaiting Kaminari. Then he turns away, squatting as he unzips his jumpsuit and then pulls out the weightier items. He flushes as he sets them down on the floor, then promptly gets up, zipping his jumpsuit to his neck, and goes to his bed. He takes up the tablet and deliberately doesn’t look at Kaminari.

“Since they took my glasses and solder, I’ll have to weld by feel. No biggie, but you’ll want to look away and close your eyes when I say so.”

Natsume looks up as Kaminari arranges the components on the floor. He picks up half of the bundle of wires and twists it together like a telephone cable. Then, his friend moves onto the items Natsume placed on the ground. He looks completely unbothered by handling the variable capacitor, whereas Natsume can’t stop the flush that refuses to go away. Of course, he thinks that most everything Kaminari has gotten from everyone else had to be carried some way, especially the heavier stuff. He covers his face realizing how unsanitary Kaminari’s hoard had been. He’s glad now that it was no longer in their cell. The sock of crystal wafers is ignored.

“Ok, Takkun. I’m ready to do this. Sorry, it’ll bit a bit boring for you, but I wanna get this done since we’re cutting it close. So, just—yeah, you got it.”

Natsume is lying sideways on his bed now, eyes dutifully closed. Even with his eyes closed and turned away, the light is bright, brighter than being out in full sun. Unlike soldering, the sparks let out a louder buzzing noise with a screech, but the sound happens rapidly, less than a second or two if Natsume guesses.

“Here comes the big one. Since I’m melting these strands together and it’s gonna take a lot of power to do that.”

There’s a loud crackle and then a large pop-crack with a blinding flash even through his eyelids. The noise set him on edge as he worries about guards.

“Kay! Now I need to bend this into a coil and then connect it into the rest of the circuit.” Natsume dares to glance over his shoulder, surprised when no one slams open the door. Kaminari’s back is to him, but he’s holding up a mostly solid piece of wire for inspection. It’s saggy and melted in spots here and there, but he shrugs and wraps it around one of the legs of the bedframe with strong heaves, turning it into a large coil. He checks it out. “Well. Better than when it was stranded I guess.”

As he watches, Natsume feels content. After another moment, a thought strikes him. He’s happy.

He feels safe, since he hasn’t been attacked in days now. He eats and sleeps regularly. The bruises have faded, and he flinches less when Kaminari forgets and pats him on the back or shoulder.

“Last two welds, and then we’re good to go!” He throws up a victory sign and tosses a smile at him. Natsume rolls over again. Two pops later, and the circuit is complete. Natsume observes as Kaminari slips the earbud in and turns the machine bolt with a tongue sticking out. “Aha!! I GOT IT. Thank god I remembered he broadcasts on the AM band too. Oh my god this is great. Your antennae is capturing the signal better than I thought it would.”

He pats the ground next to him and offers one of the earbuds. Natsume hesitates because _who knows where that has been_. “C’mon, buddy. I want you to listen to my favorite hero: The DJing Pro-Hero. And he’s just started!”

Grudgingly, Natsume slinks onto the floor and places the device in his ear. It crackles alive. Not the best audio quality, but he’s amazed it even works after the absolute failure of the last attempt.

“Okaayyyyyy, LISTENERS! Tonight, we have a SPECIAL GUEST!!” Each shouted word is in English, which has Natsume amused. Was this guy really a Pro Hero?

Kaminari is nearly vibrating as his bright gold eyes meet Natsume’s own. “Oh my god. Who is it? I missed it.”

When there’s a pause after the long, teasing introduction without the SPECIAL GUEST’s name, Natsume glances at Kaminari. “You could have heard the past recordings. In the library.”

Letting out an unimpressed hmph, Kaminari rocks back and forth with a blissful smile on his face.

“Well, come on! Introduce yourself!”

“Eraserhead,” came the tired, curt reply.

Kaminari gasps. “OhmyGOD. BRO. BRO!!” He forgets himself and latches onto Natsume’s forearm, shaking it in his excitement. “Present Mic got _Eraserhead_. He mentions they’re friends like every week, but but!!” Kaminari cannot sit still as he bounces in place.

“That’s right, LISTENERS! It’s Eraserhead, that hard to catch underground Pro Hero!! He’s a terror to any villains who may underestimate him! He’s ranked in the top 50 in Japan even though he’s only been on the beat for barely ten years! AMAZING! Tell us why you finally decided to give an interview after refusing everyone else this past decade!”

“…I lost a bet. With you.” The curt voice doesn’t sound like it’s angry, but it’s got that tense strain of annoyance to it.

“That’s right, LISTENERS! Eraserhead is bad at gambling!”

“Gambling is irrational. I don’t gamble.”

“But he couldn’t resist the temptation of that newly opened cat café! He couldn’t go a month without visiting an establishment with cats!! Eraserhead is a cat LOVER!!!!”

“….No. I’m nothing so gaudy. Be rational. Besides, strays shouldn’t be allowed roam the streets. It’s dangerous.”

“HMMmmMMM? You heard it from here! Eraserhead likes cats so much that he RESCUES them! So, tell our LISTENERS some other things about you?”

“…Interviews are illogical. They serve no good purpose to Pro Heroes who don’t support themselves with sponsors or product deals.”

“Eraserhead’s favorite snacks are salty! Pretzel sticks, shrimp chips, rice crackers, JERKY, seaweed chips, salty licorice, you name it!!” Present Mic, who hasn’t stopped exclaiming with a highly energetic and entrancing voice. “It certainly doesn’t help his bloodshot eyes!”

“I eat a nutritional, well-balanced diet like any rational Pro Hero should,” Eraserhead counters. His voice greatly contrasts with the DJing Pro Hero. “Your diet is mostly fast food.”

Kaminari has flopped to the ground and is snickering uncontrollably, trying to muffle it with both hands. He looks near to tears.

“It’s super cheap and convenient! Next question, do you have a favorite color? Hah! Don’t shake your head! Yes, you do! It’s BLACK, like your sweet dark soul. BLACK like your Pro Hero costume!”

“ _sweet dark soul_ ,” Kaminari mimics, gasping out when he tries to laugh at the same time. Natsume can’t help the smile pulling at his lips.

“It’s a logical choice. Wearing something flashy doesn’t make sense.”

“Eraserhead is also a NAP LOVER! Every chance he gets, he naps! This guy sleeps as soon as he’s left alone or even if you’re still talking to him!”

There’s the sound of a thick zipper. This has Kaminari cocking his head as he wipes at his eyes. Natsume and his friend exchange a look.

“HEY HEY HEY! HEY! We’re still on air, Eraserhead!! You can’t crawl into your sleeping bag! You still have five minutes left!”

Massive guffaws come from Kaminari as he grabs his side and flops onto the hard floor again. Natsume can’t help smiling again, imagining the two faceless voices in the room with them.

“It’s common sense to be prepared.”

“Won’t you tell the LISTENERS something else? Your BIRTHDAY? Your favorite BAND or SINGER?”

“Why do they need to know that? More and more illogical, useless information.”

“It’s IMPORTANT to know you were born November 8th! This guy’s a SCORPIO through and through!!And he doesn’t have any musical PREFERENCES!!”

There’s a loud sigh. “I’m not taking random gifts. Especially not from strangers. Be reasonable.”

“Send them here, LISTENERS—!” Present Mic lets out a clipped squeak, and when he speaks next it’s in a hoarse whisper as if he’s lost his voice. The DJ stops and clears his throat again, while the two teens straighten and strain to listen to his next words. Natsume is bewildered at the turn of events, while Kaminari is trying his hardest to hold back the squeal of excitement.

Present Mic’s voice comes out in a rasp, “hey hey hey! that’s not nice erasing my quirk like that!”

Erasing?

“You asked for a demonstration before we went on air,” the deep, rich voice is now easily louder than Present Mic’s whisper. “Do you withdraw your request?”

“yesssssss!!!” With a choked noise and a cough directed away from his microphone, Present Mic is back to normal. “HEY HEY HEY LISTENERS! We’ll be taking calls now!!”

“Oh for fu—”

“YEAHHHH!!! It’s time for a music break!” Some hard rock starts playing, suddenly.

Completely laying himself out on the hard cement floor, Kaminari kicks his feet out. “UGH! I’m dying of jealousy over here. I wanna call in.” Propping his head up on his hands, he tilts his head to look over at Natsume. “What would you ask him if you could?”

“Eraserhead?”

“Yeah.”

“I’d want to know why he became a Pro Hero. It’s a little weird that he shies away from media attention. Being a Pro Hero is like being a celebrity, so…”

“Ah. From what I heard from Present Mic? Eraserhead tends to haunt the poorer neighborhoods where Sponsor Heroes don’t go.” Kaminari stares up at the ceiling. “He probably just wants to help people and catch the bad guys. Whether he gets credit or not is irrelevant.”

Natsume watches him in the stillness, as the song switches to something more electronic with heavy drums driving the beat. Kaminari’s foot is moving to the rhythm, but his eyes seem to say that he’s somewhere else entirely.

“Do you?”

“Mm?” Kaminari turns to look at him. His curious gold eyes latch onto Natsume’s.

Mouth dry, Natsume asks, “Do you want to be a Pro Hero?”

“Yeah! Been wanting to be one since I was little. If I had a name, I’d like ChargeBOLT, since I can release a million volts at a time. It’s pretty sweet.” Kaminari pushes himself up, effortlessly. “What about you?”

With a baffled look, Natsume lifts a finger to point at himself, and then shakes his head and drops his hand. “I never wanted to be a hero. It’s not something that appeals to me.” It’s exhausting to think of doing more than what he’s already done to protect others from the monsters. He lets out a rough chuckle. “It looks grueling, really.” He shrugs off the morose feeling with a bitter smile. “Besides, while other kids played Hero-Villain, I was busy with infinite tag. So…”

“What do you want to be?” Kaminari throws a hand around, turning fully towards him. “Don’t think about your past or where you are now. You must have dreams? Right?”

Natsume’s trying to form words, but he can’t think of anything. “Maybe I did? I don’t know anymore. I don’t think I could hold a steady job if the monsters came in and wrecked the place.”

A wince is directed at him. “Yeah. That’s a good point, but it’s not helpful, Takkun.”

“Sorry.”

“Nah, man. I’m sorry I brought you down with my questions.”

Natsume smiles bitterly. “It’s been… awhile since I thought about who I’ll become. I never expected to live this long. I don’t know where I’m going, I guess.” Something painful comes clawing up his throat, but he swallows it down. When he looks back to Kaminari, his friend has a horrified look on his face. It’s too easy to forget that Kaminari has never seen Natsume being attacked, though it’s a given he must have heard about it. He hasn’t seen all the close calls or the times Natsume has been hospitalized, either.

“You’re thirteen, right? Like me?”

“Yeah.”

“Bet you were born after June.”

“Yeah…?”

Rocking back on his butt so his crossed legs are lifted slightly and then pushing his weight forward again, Kaminari takes a deep breath. “You should take time to think about it, little bro. Who you want to be.”

The sound of Present Mic excitedly coming on air doesn’t distract Kaminari from his long stare.

Swallowing, Natsume drops his chin down into a nod. The problem is that he barely knows who he is anymore. He can’t meet his friend’s worried eyes any longer.

“It’s time LISTENERS! Get ready to CALLLLLLLL IN!!”

Barely a second passes before Present Mic starts answering phone calls. Caller after caller give one inane question after another with two- to four-word answers from Eraserhead. Present Mic doesn’t let the callers carry on, and for the most part they behave after a few seconds of fawning over one or both heroes.

“What’s your real name?”

“That’s confidential.”

 

“Are you single?”

“That’s superfluous.”

 

“Do you get dry eye?”

“If I don’t blink.”

 

“How tall are you?”

“That’s unimportant.”

And so, the questions drone on, not interesting until…

“Hi Present Mic,” it’s a small voice, a child probably. “I have a… question?”

“HEY YOUNG LISTENER! Shouldn’t you be in bed?”

“...uh… um. I’m 15.”

“Uh huh,” Present Mic answered, obviously humoring the young child, “Go ahead and ask your question, KIDDO. And then get to bed!”

“…uh… um. Why did you become a Pro, Eraserhead?”

Natsume lifts his head, curious, while Kaminari is beaming at him. His friend whispers, “Your question’s gonna get answered!”

“Hm. I wanted to protect people,” the deep voice sounds more patient now, without that irritated or scoffing tone he used to dismiss other callers. “Especially people who didn’t live in a district that could afford high payouts for Villain Captures.”

“And to protect cats?” The child asked with a breathlessly expectant, innocent tone.

Present Mic is in the background giggling and cooing, but squeaks again as his quirk gets erased again.

“Yes. And cats,” Eraserhead answers smoothly.

“uh. HEY! THANK YOU!” The child screams out in English in the same tone Present Mic uses and then the line cuts off.

“That was adorable,” Kaminari, looking close to tears, whispers to a blinking Natsume.

Then a loud BEEP BEEP BEEPITY-BEEP on repeat cuts across the microphones.

“This interview is over,” Eraserhead announces and there’s a knocking sound and soft thud as if something rolled against a desk(?).

“HEY HEY HEY! Don’t sleep in here!”

There’s no answer, but Kaminari lets out an aborted giggle.

Present Mic lets out a long-suffering sigh. “Well there you have it, LISTENERS! I guess I’ll sing a lullaby instead of my usual recap and SIGN OFF.” There’s a deep breath, and then the Pro Hero starts singing softly. At the familiar melody, Natsume closes his eyes and can imagine the sound of wind chimes lost in a summer breeze. He can almost feel a phantom touch stroking his hair, softly, tender as the lullaby.

He doesn’t know how long he’s lost in memory when his friend shakes him lightly. He blinks up at Kaminari until his eyes clear and he pulls out the slightly crackling ear bud.

“Had me worried for a second there, lil bro. Let’s get some sleep, huh?”

Natsume nods and pushes himself up. He sways a bit once he’s on his feet, but it’s only a few steps to his bed. He flops down, trying to reach that pleasant memory again. It sifts through his fingers like salt, but he’s too tired to care as curfew is announced over the speaker.


	4. Aldera Junior High (Midoriya Redux)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Welp. Here we go again. This time from Izuku's POV.

“I, Natsume Reiko, demand your obeisance!!”

Midoriya Izuku doesn’t even blink when a tall, long-haired teenager in a sailor uniform starts swinging her baseball bat while announcing this from atop the teacher’s podium. However, not one of his classmates twitches. They’re all enjoying their loud conversations with one another, sitting on their desks or standing. No one turns to look at Ms. Natsume. It’s a dead (hah) giveaway.

Looking briefly at the clock, Izuku knows there’s about five minutes before the teacher steps in. And, Ms. Natsume doesn’t seem close to settling down. Instead, she squats, perching on the podium with her bat propped against her shoulder. “How boring. You lot are always like this. Never _seeing_.” Spinning once, her outdated skirt swirls around her legs, and she stands again. “I bet you shitheads are going to be like the last batch too. Won’t even be able to see past your noses.” She swings the bat around in a one-handed grip. “Bo-ring!”

When it’s about a minute before class starts, Izuku’s eyes flicker to his constant companion, and a curious and eager Rei soars forward, hair lengthening as she closes in on the teen.

“Oh-ho? You wanna fight?” The high schooler sticks her arm out straight, pointing her bat directly at Rei. The teacher steps into the room and sets the class book through the back of Ms. Natsume’s feet. “Well, what’s the point in fighting if we don’t have skin in the game?”

Without a word, Rei hovers in front of the highschooler, who shows no sign of sweating or shying away at Rei’s empty smile and weeping black eyes. That’s not very common. Most ghosts are afraid of obvious poltergeists, but Ms. Natsume simply purses her lips in thought.

She tucks her bat under her arm, completely ignoring the teacher rifling through the classbook under her. “Oh, I know. If I win, give me your name! If I lose, we can do whatever you want. Deal?” Her smile is sharp and alive. “Though I’ve never once lost.”

With a loud shriek of excitement, Rei dives into the ghost, and the momentum pushes them through the blackboard, on which the teacher has written ‘Natsume Takashi’. Izuku sits up straight. The bell tolls, but the only real change to the class is that his classmates sit in their seats. Most don’t even bother hiding that they’re texting each other or doing Snapchat, and because of that they don’t see the slight-framed, beautiful teen step into the classroom and silently slide the door shut behind him.

Two more people follow him through the door. A woman with a similar build and flaxen hair, and a tall man with brown hair and glasses. Their pearly white eyes gaze at the class. The woman sidles up next to Natsume, while the man frowns and fiddles with his glasses.

“Today, we have a new transfer student. Go ahead.”

In the pause of Natsume Takashi’s hesitance, the ghost man says, “This is the moment that Takashi dreads. The introduction.” The woman simply has her hands clasped in front of her with her head tilted down.

“I’m Natsume Takashi. Pleased to meet you.”

He has three ghosts, Izuku realizes faintly. His best guess is that these two are his parents due to their physical similarities, but he’s not sure yet what his relationship is to Ms. Natsume. It’s a toss up to whether she’s a sister or his aunt. Her fashion and demeanor screams old-school hoodlum. Of course, the classroom erupts with their usual heckling, never missing an opportunity to jeer at Izuku’s ‘Quirkless’ status.

“He probably won’t stay long enough to make friends. Best to avoid the matter of Quirks altogether,” the male ghost projects blithely into the air, waving an arm to encompass the class. “Better that his stay is short to avoid getting close to people who’ll end up collateral damage.”

Collateral damage…? Izuku frowns. He thinks that maybe these two had been collateral damage. They seem distant and strange in a way that ghosts who are fixated on the living tend to be. It would certainly explain why their teacher deflected from discussing the transfer student’s Quirk if there was a sordid past associated with it, such as his parents’ deaths.

Unaware of the woman’s pale hand gripping over his shoulder but usually slipping through it, Natsume doesn’t hunch down or slouch while he walks to his seat, though his eyes briefly rake over their classmates. He lingers a bit too long on Kacchan, who’s in the middle of his hourly ‘extras’ speech. The moment Kacchan’s eyes sharpen on the newcomer, the other teen looks away.

“Avoid the blond one with predator eyes, Takashi thinks,” the man narrates tiredly, “Hopefully, their relationship will be based on mutual disregard. His whole attitude screams _violence_. And you have more than enough of _that_ in your life.”

“Genta,” the woman says with a deep weariness. “Can’t you be an optimist for once in your life? He only just moved in with the Itos. You prattle on and on but I’m the only one who hears it.”

“You know something always comes for him. It's only a matter of when.” The man, Genta, frowns deeply, and the woman sighs and looks away. 

Izuku tries to wipe the worry off his face as Natsume-kun finally sits down, and the teacher directs them to open their textbook. The silver-haired teen is staring out the window, gazing longingly at the sky.

“I want to get out of here, Takashi thinks. For once, he should break the rules and be truant like his dearly departed grandmother,” Genta continues, completely unaware that Izuku can hear him. But, he doesn’t feel bad about hearing it?

Izuku plasters on a smile, resisting the urge to reach over and tap Natsume-kun's free shoulder, “Psst, my name’s Midoriya. What’s your Quirk?” Over his shoulder, the woman looks directly at Izuku, but he pretends not to see her.

Green eyes that are nearer to hazel turn to Izuku slowly, as if it was hard to stop looking at the wide, open sky. “Pulled away from his intense skygazing, Takashi frowns at the intrusive question by a stranger.”

Eyebrows slightly furrowed, Natsume-kun frowns at him, nearly identical to Genta’s own which cements _father_ into Izuku’s mind like wet gauze. It’s uncanny how Genta narrates how he’ll react.

But, that frown doesn’t reach his green eyes which are so shallow they’re flinty. Izuku swallows because _those_ _eyes_ are very nearly dead. There’s a hollowness there as if someone had reached in and carved out his feelings, leaving him with a deeper emptiness than Rei’s disturbing smile.

“Oh, he’s trying to be sweet. Try to make a friend, Takashi,” the woman implores.

Without a word, Natsume-kun turns away to look back out the window. The ghostly hand suspended over his shoulder tightens into a curl, and the woman—no, his _mother_ looks distressed but also sympathetic as if she didn’t really expect anything to change.

Then, Natsume-kun jerks in his seat, shoulders tight and hands clenched around the desk’s edges as if it were an anchor. His quiet breathing picks up, and Izuku knows something is wrong even without the two ghosts flickering into gruesome, bloodied versions of themselves in their anguish.

In gashed and dirty clothing, Genta, now missing an arm and with a neck at an irregular angle, immediately steps between the window and Natsume-kun, falling still and silent. Natsume-kun’s mother is maintaining her form better, though it’s obvious that her body had been crushed, and is also staring in the same direction. She attempts and fails to wrap her arms around Natsume-kun’s trembling form. “It’s going to be okay. You’ll be fine. No one’s going to die again.”

“Damn, it’s already here, Satomi,” Genta whispers. “And it’s big if Takashi’s reacting this badly.”

“Do you think he has time to run?”

“If he did, he would have left already.”

“AUGHHHH!!!!” Ms. Natsume Reiko flies through the class from the side, looking the same as she did when she introduced herself, paper-covered bat held over her head. She swings it down, just as she breaches the wall into the empty space outside the window. “GO AWAY. LEAVE. MY. GRANDSON. ALONE!”

There’s a loud thud as Natsume-kun slams his head down, partially hiding behind his textbook. Quickly, Izuku answers the teacher’s worried question before Rei waves to get his attention.

_Little brother, watch this!!_

Without further ado, Rei jots out both hands, forefinger sticking into Natsume-kun's side. He reacts like he’s being stabbed, curling protectively towards the book.

“Hey, leave him alone!” Satomi hisses at Rei.

Rei’s smile widens as she continues poking him.

Extremely worried about the unseen situation escalating outside, Izuku says, _Stop. Pay attention to what's out—_

Natsume-kun looks up, his skin turning a sickening gray, and then stands abruptly slamming both hands on his desk, eyes wide with terror. The class silences, all focus on him. He shouts out, voice commanding, “EVERYONE DOWN.” Spinning in place to protect his head, he ducks with his back deliberately towards the windows. Genta and Satomi crowd around him. It makes Izuku’s chest tighten at the sad sight.

Entirely too used to villain attacks in their everyday lives, several students jump out of their desks and run to the hallway, while others duck into protective positions. Something strikes the side of their classroom. The wall bows, and then the windows shatter. The vibrations blow through the floor, causing it to shudder. The windows in the doors and along the wall to the hallway also burst as well. Several classmates scream in fright. Izuku managed to duck under his desk at the last second and asks Rei, _Did you see what’s outside?_

Rei shakes her head and darts out. Izuku peeks around his desk, shaking out his hair to get the larger pieces of glass out of it, and stands. Natsume-kun hasn’t moved from his spot, chin tucked. His mother is whispering encouragement and praising him for warning the others.

As soon as it appears that there’s not another explosive wave of air coming, the teacher stands and directs everyone out of the room into the hallway. “Please stay calm. As soon as we know the situation outside, we’ll evacuate.”

Rei comes soaring back, her weeping eyes wide with alarm. Her small hands sweep through the words. _An ogre…? A giant one-eyed, horned ogre…? It has a club._

Izuku frowns in thought, as he looks over his shoulder at Ms. Natsume’s fruitless swinging.

“Ma!” Genta yells her. “We can’t do anything. Stop wasting your energy.”

“Damn. This. THING!!”

No one alive, save one, notices that the transfer student hasn’t left his crouch. Izuku can barely hear him breathe and while he’s holding himself so very still he looks like a hyper-realistic statue.

“My dearest one,” Satomi says, “You’ll be okay. Just hang in there.”

“How big is it this time?” Genta directs to the spirit hovering with the bat.

She shrugs. “Probably three-stories tall. It slammed a club into the wall, so…”

At the petrified noise Natsume-kun makes, the three fall silent. Rei is looking very agitated as she glares at the space outside the window as she says, _It’s trying to grab him! He needs to run! Why isn’t he running?_

“Deku! What are you doing? Get that asshole and get out of there!”

Creases are forming on Natsume-kun’s clothing as if being pressed down. Izuku approaches slowly.

“Don’t!” Genta holds out both hands. “It’s too dangerous now!” His arms are shaking. Satomi hasn’t stopped her encouraging words, but they’re devolving into a panicked word salad. “ _Gonna. There’s no. Okay. Stay safe. Don’t. You’re fine. Please_.”

Izuku stops and stares directly at the man, who takes a step back in shock. He turns towards Natsume-kun, whose clothing has gotten even more constrictive since he last looked. The flinty look is gone, and there is nothing but exposed, trapped terror. Izuku reaches out a hand to him. Natsume-kun acts as if he’s been physically struck by the offer. Fire comes alive in his eyes and he scowls.

“Stay back!!”

“Natsume-kun,” Izuku begins trying to calm him, “What d—” The largest fingers he has ever seen flicker into his awareness and then fade from view like a mirage. Even though Rei told him, his brain still isn’t a hundred percent on board. “Is th—?” The harder he looks, the less he sees, so he keeps his vision at the middle distance, squinting when he starts seeing a faint outline again but losing the mirage as soon as he tries to focus on it. Izuku has seen a lot of gruesome things with his Quirk, an endless multitude of grisly deaths and desperate, bloody ghosts seeking rest. The almost-sight of a malicious-looking ogre peering into the classroom with its arm halfway in. Well. That’s _terrifying_.

Ogre is lifting him up slowly. Natsume-kun doesn’t seem to realize yet that his feet aren’t on the floor anymore since his arms are up and fighting against the crushing grip on him. “Get out of here!! It—Don’t worry about me! I’ll be fine!”

His delivery is wooden, and his face looks too unreadable and unbelievable. His efforts have the opposite effect, since they only make Izuku want to fight on his behalf.

“Shit,” Ms. Natsume growls at the sight of her struggling grandson hovering in the air. Her bat slides through the ground. “Damnit,” she looks ready to spit and points her bat at Izuku. “You damn well better tell him to fight the stupid thing.”

“I don’t think it works like that,” Izuku gasps out to her. Rei grabs onto his school shirt and tugs. She points at the struggling Natsume-kun, drifting farther and farther away as the ogre pulls him out of the school. _I’m going to help him!_

Izuku nods dumbly and Rei takes off, jumping out the window and into the air straight towards the ogre’s face. Someone roughly grabs him by the wrist, causing him to flinch.

“Deku, didn’t you hear me? Stop standing around and get out of here!” It’s one of Bakugo’s minions. The panic attack is narrowly averted, once Izuku pulls free of the grip.

“He needs help.” His brain is finally, finally clicking into gear. If Rei manages to get Natsume-kun free, then that’s going to be a really long fall. Izuku’s eyes immediately look for one person in particular peeking in from the hallway.

“ _Help him_? You can’t help someone with Pyschokinesis when it’s out of control.”

Shrugging, Izuku yells, “Mariko-chan!”

His classmate pops into view. “What, Deku?” She steps gingerly into the classroom but stays a good meter away from him.

“Deku?” Natsume’s mother echoes in a whisper. She sounds personally affronted, which is kind of… nice, but really not necessary, especially now.

“Holy hells. This doesn't look good,” Mr. Genta’s voice shakes, and then Rei’s howling carries into the room. Izuku looks up at the outline of the ogre where Rei and Ms. Natsume are attacking, just as Natsume-kun is released and is falling, falling—“Mariko-chan, use your Quirk on him!” Izuku thrusts his finger towards the transfer student in freefall.

“Takashi!!!” Ms. Satomi screams and flings herself out the building, appearing by his side in a blink of an eye.

Mariko rushes towards the windows, creases her brows as she holds up her hands, and a strong breeze flaps through the room while she funnels air under Natsume-kun. His landing is much softer than Izuku expected, but still pretty rough, bruising but not deadly.

Natsume’s father has a hand curled into the fabric of his shirt, no longer looking _dead_. He’s staring down at his still-living, breathing son. He drops his hand and turns to Izuku’s classmate. “You saved his life. Thank you.”

“You just saved his life. Thanks, Mariko-chan!” Izuku smiles at her, and she tsks at him, preening under the attention.

“Good going, Mari!” Her best friend wraps an arm around her shoulder, and Mariko’s face breaks into a wide smile.

Izuku’s classmates grow bolder when the entire classroom doesn’t collapse and gather by the bent window frames, several of them congratulating Mariko on the adept save and ignoring Izuku’s part. That’s fine. He's never needed credit, and he doesn't now.

He sees Kacchan and his gang stand by the cratered hole staring down at the school lawn where Natsume-kun fell. Kacchan’s fist is clenched so tightly that his nails probably dig into the flesh of his palm. It’s obvious he’s shaking with rage and probably not because their English lesson had been interrupted. “Hey, you stupid extra!!” He screams down at the dazed looking Natsume-kun. “What the fuck was that?!”

Deciding that this was the perfect distraction, Izuku barrels through the door and through the curious students from other classes, who mingle in the hallways and completely ignore the teachers trying to evacuate the building.  Izuku needs to get down there before anyone can stop him.

“They were talking about you, weren’t they? They think you’re Quirkless.”

Taking the stairs two steps at a time, Izuku glances once at Mr. Genta who effortlessly keeps pace with him. “Yep. Useless me.” In the chaos, he doesn’t think anyone would care that the school’s weirdo is talking to himself again.

“Hah. You undersell yourself, kid. Consider that this is the first time someone’s effectively interfered since I died. Doesn’t sound useless to me.”

Izuku feels the usual burn on his face from the compliment. “Thank Rei, not me,” he hedges.

The ghost simply adjusts the glasses on his face, while Izuku manages to expertly dodge and maneuver out of reach of responsible adults. The protocol for Wild Quirks is to keep clear of the person with said Quirk. But he knows better, knows that this is not an untamed Quirk, and while he knows he’ll get reprimanded he doesn’t feel an ounce of guilt.

The adults don’t charge after him as he approaches a breathless Natsume-kun. Rei is standing on top of Natsume-kun’s stomach, while his mother is fussing at Rei for bothering him. An arm is thrown over the transfer student’s face.

“Natsume-kun!”

As soon as he’s free to, Natsume-kun sits up. So many questions and Quirk theories surge free from Izuku’s lips in a quick muttering, without any filter. Natsume-kun simply listens, his eyes no longer hollowed out. He looks vulnerable, like he’s waiting for the other shoe to drop.

For whatever reason, Rei and Ms. Natsume are playing patty-cake a little distance off. Natsume-kun’s parents are attentively listening as Izuku keeps talking a mile a minute. Finally, he’s interrupted by a polite hand lifting into the air. As Natsume-kun speaks, the mood hanging around him is lighter, but still bows his shoulders.

“He’s afraid to get close to you,” Mr. Genta surmises. “He knows he’ll be sent away and locked up.” He waves an arm towards the devastated classroom. “That’s a big deal. The authorities aren’t going to let him out again.”

“It’s not fair,” Izuku says under his breath.

Ms. Natsume snorts at his comment, while she practices her swing behind her grandson. “When is anything _fair_ in this world? Hah.”

With a wave, Rei gets his attention. _He can see **me** , little brother. I can poke him!_

_How does that help?_

_I can visit your friend! So don’t look sad._

_We only met a little bit ago? We can’t be…_

She tugs on his shirt and looks to the resigned Natsume-kun, doted on by both parents.

“You _can_ see Rei, can’t you?” Izuku meets the blank white eyes of his ghosts.

“Please take care of him,” his mother pleads from Natsume-kun’s right, arm acting as if it’s holding his shoulders. “I hate how helpless I am to help him.”

“We all feel that way, dear,” his father states on the other side, flicking a finger through a pebble without any effect.

“Hah! Speak for yourself!” Ms. Natsume boasts, and in a blink is by Rei. She pats her shoulder. “She’s a natural fighter and a good listener. It’s the only reason that coward ran off so quickly. Feh!”

Rei puffs out her chest, looking proud of herself. Ms. Natsume though falters when her grandson seems to look at her briefly as he stands.

He looks around with a thoughtful, though puzzled grimace. “That’s what her name was? Thanks, Rei.” He smiles, for real this time, and it makes Izuku melt a little. “Who knows where it would’ve taken me, or for how long.”

The police and news crews arrive, and _Kamui Woods_ not long after. Izuku is mostly there as support while a docile Natsume-kun is put in capture gear by the Pro Hero and loaded in the back of a police cruiser. His parents squeeze into the back seat on the other side of him, but Ms. Natsume stands on top of the car above the flashing light and threateningly brandishes her bat. “I, Natsume Reiko, demand that you kneel before me, peons!!” Of course, no one notices.

Rei’s scratchy giggling next to Izuku lightens his heart a little. “Can you check on him?” She nods and glides in that direction, just as the harried school Quirk counselor approaches Izuku. The counselor leads him back towards the school. It’s only then that Izuku sees that several city buses have pulled into the drop off area at the back of the school to pick students up. A lot of students are walking home already while a few get into awaiting cars. The rubberneckers are heading out now that Natsume-kun is no longer in view.

 _He’s okay,_ Rei says when she appears and then more slowly _, he said the gear is like a hug?_

Sadness clings to him like the threads of a cobweb. _Thanks for_ _checking_ , he tells her _._ Izuku shakes free of it before the counselor notices.

Once they enter her office, she asks the usual questions about his feelings, and then whether Natsume-kun said anything strange while they were on the school lawn.

“No. But.”

With a tilt of her head, she waits for him to finish.

“I think he’s depressed?”

“It’s common for people with Wild Quirks to have depression and anxiety,” he’s told. “It’s almost unheard of for there not to be some underlying mental illness in conjunction with a Wild Quirk.”

“Oh,” Izuku says.

“The police may want a witness statement from you later, but you’re free to go home. Your mom’s waiting. Let me show you where.” The reprimand Izuku is expecting never comes. He wonders if it'll come tomorrow once things calm down.

After locking the door behind her, the counselor leads him to a cordoned area free of reporters not far from the exit to the drop-off zone. His teary-eyed mom is the only one still there. As soon as she sees him, she jumps up from the bench and throws her arms around him. The homely smell of baby powder envelopes him.

“Mom! I’m okay.”

“When I heard what happened, I panicked. I came here as soon as I could,” she sniffles against the hair on his forehead, her hand curled through it. She pulls back, checking him over with puffy eyes. “I was so _worried_.” She blows her nose into a newly pulled tissue from her pack and throws it into the trash. “But, you seem _okay_ , and I’m so glad and thankful that nothing happened to you. I’m going to give you a cell phone so I can call you in an emergency. Okay?” She taps his nose lightly and tries for smile but it’s too watery that it slips.

He hugs her one more time and then takes her hand, leading her to the double doors. “I was thinking of making the miso soup tonight?”

Mom smiles, even as she pats her eyes dry with another tissue. “I could make some butter cookies.”

“Those are great! If you’re up to it,” Izuku says with a bright smile. They walk home, of course, since the school is only five blocks away. Izuku is honestly surprised that there's no reporters hounding them. It’s not until the door shuts behind them in their small apartment and they toe out of their shoes, that Izuku turns to his mother with a serious expression. She pauses and turns to him in curious expectation.

He’s not even sure how to broach the subject. The cupboards and doors are silent for once, which only heightens his anxiety. He would feel so much better if the ghosts were messing around, but from the sound of it everyone but Rei is currently elsewhere. There’s barely a whisper as something passes by their front door, fading almost immediately. Rei holds onto the back of his shirt, cold where she touches. It helps him relax.

“We can talk after I start the tea and pull together a snack for us,” she says gently to him when it becomes clear that Izuku isn’t ready to speak about what happened.

Time is just what he needs to gather his thoughts. His mom turns on the television to the news, which is still broadcasting the ‘Wild Quirk Incident at Aldera Junior High’. Any instance where Nastume-kun is shown is blurred out to protect his identity, though the reporters discussing his case throw around words like ‘troubled problem case’, ‘known delinquency’, and ‘family history of mental illness’.  Having set down a tray with tea and a plate of snacks, Mom joins him at their little table and sips at her tea.

“We managed to contact the new transfer student’s current foster parents," the reporter says, "One of them was willing to speak to us. Please be advised that there is foul language in the next clip."

The screen cuts to a smoking adult with a careless air around him. “Look, I only took him in as a favor to my cousin. We’re barely related. Any criminal act he does is probably because he has no close family of his own. Orphans are always,” and here the man circles the side of his head with the hand gripping his cigarette. “And, his grandma was a well-known punk and a crazy bitch, and his dad? Well, let’s just say that he didn’t fall that far from that nutso apple tree. It’s no wonder that quiet, little f-[BLEEP]’s got a Wild Quirk. If—”

Mom turns off the tv and looks at Izuku with a worried frown.

“He doesn’t have a Wild Quirk, Mom. Things _attack_ him. And… he has _three_ ghosts: Parents and a grandmother.”

Eyes sad, she raises a hand to her lips, listening.

“His name is Natsume Takashi. And he can see… well. I know for sure he can see ogres?” Mom sits up straighter with an eyebrow raised. “I know it sounds… But I don’t think that’s all he sees.”

The overhead light starts flickering and Izuku looks up to see Rei swiping at the wires. Mom heads to the mirror and dusts it down with baby powder. Rei rattles out a shriek and writes **HE SEES ME** as large as she can.

Mom looks up at him, gauging his reaction. “This boy can see Rei? Does that mean—?”

Izuku shakes his head. “He can’t see his ghosts. Only Rei. But it might be other poltergeists too.”

She nods, looking a bit disappointed. She probably was hoping that he finally found a friend that he didn’t feel like he had to hide his Quirk from.

Rei shoots around the room once to get Mom’s attention again, and then writes **I BEAT OGRE**

“O-oh,” she sounds surprised. “You fought an _ogre_? My… what a good Hero you’d make Rei-chan!”

Preening. Rei hovers happily and writes, **A HERO LIKE LITTLE BROTHER**

“Yes! Just like Izuku.” Mom beams at him, and he wants to become one with the chair he’s in because she’s embarrassing him again. Because there’s no way he could go Pro with a useless Quirk like his.

“So,” Izuku says after clearing his throat, “from what I heard from his parents? It’s common for these creatures to get violent and destructive. Natsume-kun didn’t answer, but… it seems like a Phasing Quirk…? Like maybe those creatures always existed but it was never on the same plane, same Phase, of reality? So we share the world but don’t interact normally. But with his Quirk, or maybe just being near him, they can affect our reality and warp it. And I saw it, kind of, the outline of the ogre. It was like looking at a prism underwater, but if I squinted too much I couldn’t see it anymore.” Izuku takes a deep breath. “M-mom?”

“Yes, sweetheart?”

“C-can…” He fidgets and pokes his fingers together. “C-could we m-maybe… adopt him?” He peeks up at Mom’s face, and she looks absolutely captivated by the idea.

“Are you sure that you want to start that process? You would have to share a room. And… it could be dangerous.”

Izuku swallows, but nods firmly setting a hand on top of the table to grip at his teacup. “You heard.” He jerks his head to the tv. “If he gets his Quirk under control and gets out, I don’t think he has anywhere to go? And h-he looked so _scared_ , but he was trying to hide it and he seemed to just let it take him away even though you could _tell_ it wasn’t what he wanted, Mom. When he saw the ogre about to attack he told everyone to get down. He told _me_ t-to stay back. I can’t just. Let him rot in prison or wherever they’ll stick him. It’s _cruel_ and it’s wrong and it’s _not his fault_ that people think he has no control over a Psychokinetic Quirk.” He squeezes his hand on the teacup. “I wonder how many times he tried to tell adults, or tried to tell _anyone_ what his Quirk really was. And I wonder when he gave up?” He breathes in and then out to calm down. “He didn’t have you, Mom. He’s been fighting with this alone. Ms. Satomi, that’s his mom, she begged me to help him. I can’t just… I can’t ignore it.” He looks up at her with a determined expression.

“Oh Izuku.” She places her hand on his, the one wrapped around the cup, and grips it. “Your heart is so big, and I’m so proud of you.”

He blushes, ducking his head down as Rei floats around the room, hovering several sheets of looseleaf paper with her.

“This would be a big change to our lives, but if you’re sure then I’ll look into it after we’re done with lunch.”

“Thanks, Mom,” he blurts out. He knows he can count on her. Even if it means swimming through heaps of paperwork.

She smiles and pats his hand, ignoring the mess that Rei has made out of her boredom. As she passes the mirror, she wipes it down to erase the messages and goes into the kitchen.

“Rei, could you check on him tomorrow after school? By then, they’d probably announce where they’re holding him on the news.”

She pulls a face. Even though it was her idea, Izuku was worried that this would happen. “I know, I know. You hate leaving me. But it’s only for a bit. And wouldn’t it be nice to have another living friend?”

Shaking her head vehemently, she says, _No! I only need Little Brother!!_ Then she stamps her foot, disturbing the pile of papers on the ground.

Izuku’s mind frantically goes through his options. There’s not many things that motivate Rei, and he’s scrounging through meager instances where he’d bribed her to do something for him that she disliked. Then he grins when he remembers what Mr. Genta told him. “But Rei, no one else can fight off an ogre. What if something else attacks him?”

She makes a face and sticks out her tongue. _NO_ , she stresses again.

“You’re his Hero, Rei. There’s no one else that he can depend on,” Izuku says softly. “He’ll be dragged away again without his Hero to rescue him… Poor Natsume-kun.” He allows the frustration and sadness he feels over Natsume-kun’s plight show on his face.

She looks over her shoulder but looks away again in a huff of defeat. Thrusting out her hands, she says, _OK_. _Only for a little bit. It was my idea in the first place._

His sunny disposition immediately wipes away his morose mood. “Really? Thanks, Rei!!”

Waving his gratitude off, she demands that he play patty-cake with her and he easily acquiesces.


	5. Dagoba Quirk R&C Facility (Utsushida Redux)

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> There's an incident in the mess hall, and Dr. Utsushida knows it's probably the new inmate at the heart of it.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ..... Brain. Why. Why do you do this to me. This chapter was not the one you were supposed to write, okay.  
>  Welp. Here goes.
> 
> Edit: wow the chat format was really bad, especially when viewing on phone. I mostly fixed it?

New intakes were always a chore and stressful as hell. Utsushida Akari thinks to herself for the nth time, _Why the hell don’t they send the necessary files **before** they ship new delinquents in_? She rushes down the incredibly twisty corridor to the emergency meeting that the prison warden, Kumon Dentaku, had called. It had been less than an hour after the lights turned back on after an incident, and she thinks back over the abundant number of psychiatric files for 8990 as she bites her lower lip. Her gut is clenching and she worries that whatever incident had happened may have something to do with him. It was an all too common occurrence with new intakes.

Akari’s stomach sinks as she enters the room where her fellow colleagues, therapists and researchers, sat in thoughtful silence, while a short video clip replays at only a handful of frames a second. As she thought, Inmate No. 8990 is on screen. Then, in slow-motion Inmate No. 8170 is thrown across the screen by some invisible force. Akari’s eyebrows rise in shock and her eyes zero in on the slowly blinking collar that is held in a death grip by 8990.

The prison guards who could be pulled from their redundant postings look incredibly disturbed. Two in particular look sick, probably witnesses to said event. She looks up at the screens, checking the angles, and indeed Officers Nozomi and Yamazaki are there. Burly, bald, beige-skinned Yamazaki is the one who aims with his Sharpshooting Quirk to precisely unload the tranquilizer dart into a difficult, moving target, below the shoulder blades and between the ribs of the thin inmate’s back.

Byzantine blue-haired Nozomi is quickly running to 8170’s side and doing a basic ABC check. After pressing his tawny hand to 8170’s chest and leans an ear over the inmate’s mouth for a minute, he leans back and doesn’t perform compressions, apparently deciding that the unconscious 8170 is breathing on his own. It’s obvious that the young guard is using his Xray Quirk to check for bone breaks. Other guards are corralling the remaining inmates who had remained motionless when 8990 dangled in the air, but it’s obvious that the inmates aren’t opposed to the idea and the area clears quickly.

Untucking her tablet from under her arm, Akari takes a seat and watches the playback reel repeat until Kumon appears.

The broad-shouldered woman had her burgundy hair pulled back in a severe bun, highlighting the sharp cheekbones beneath her burnt ochre skin. Today, she wore gray slacks and a long-sleeved light blue blouse. Akari thinks it’s an excellent choice since it brings out her eyes.

Kumon lets out a sigh. “Alright. Let’s get to it.” She turns to the officers that were on the scene and waits. Her right eyebrow rises when no one immediately volunteers information.

Officer Yamazaki stands, clearing his throat. “At 11:37 AM, Inmate 8170 with a mutant Quirk approached Inmate 8990, whose psychokinetic Quirk was assumed to be suppressed. One of us was set to intervene after 8170 swiped at 8990, but then 8170 was thrown across the room.” He juts his thumb at the screen with the crumpled form. “8990 stood, tucked his chin in, and wrapped his arms behind his head. His feet were pulled out from under him, which is when I deployed the tranq. But… it had no effect on what was happening.” He swallows and sits down, staring down at the table.

Kumon nods, picks up the projector’s remote, and pauses the frame when Inmate 8990 is completely inverted and hanging by one leg, the other curled protectively to his body, face contorted in concentration and framed by his arms. Kumon clicks and the frames move sluggishly onward. The inmate’s face registers the sharp tranquilizer dart and within a few frames his limbs drop like a ragdoll and face slackens, while his right ankle is held upright and his arms drag on the ground.

Kumon pauses it again and turns to one of Utsushida’s colleagues. “Dr. Banba, if you will.”

The tall and gangly neuroscientist with dark red, cropped hair and pale green skin stands. “As soon as the event ended, we went over his Quirk Suppressor and its recorder. There were no discrepancies. It was fully functional and operating normally. In addition, my Brain Scan at intake showed the Suppressor was properly dampening his Discharge Field and blocking his extrasensory ability. We can conclude this anomalous event didn’t originate from him.” Without further ado, she sits, and her white irises swim through the black of her eyes as she reads something on her tablet.

Silence grips them.

"Then that rules out a Quirk like that one kid with a shadow monster living inside of him," one of the researchers murmurs. Akari isn't sure which one.

A soft click had the frames moving again when the lights in the windowless mess hall all begin to flicker at random intervals. The silver-haired inmate is dropped, slamming into the ground, and then the feed cuts out into static snow.

Akari could only hear breathing in the room. The scene is so out of the norm that even she feels out of her element.

“Anyone have _any_ theories on what the hell happened in there?” The warden’s blue eyes rake over the room.

“This is some freakyass shit, sir,” Officer Nozomi boldly offers. “We found damage leading a path towards him, though it was very minimal compared to…” He jerks his chin towards the screen. “ _that_.”

“Did you send in pictures?”

“Emailed them as per protocol, sir.”

Kumon pulls her phone out of her belt holster, thumbing through it. She quickly swipes out with a thumb, and then an image replaces the recording on the screen. Originating from the twisty corridor leading to the exit, the first crater is shown, a little less than a shallow dip, the next one is deeper. They were not footsteps, however, since they were fairly far apart, like someone had a tantrum beating perfectly round fists against the floor and column. There’s a sizeable dent in the metal railing where the lunch line begins and the craters grow deeper. In all there’s about a dozen of them.

“Sir,” Officer Yamazaki says, cutting through the silence like a whip. “Uh. This is the kind of thing you expect from horror movies.” He laughs lightly, though it’s edged with tension. “I mean, it’s eerie, right? I’m not the only one thinking that.”

Nozomi nods vigorously, muttering, “Like some ghost out for revenge.”

“So, you are suggesting _spirits_ , Officer Nozomi? Things that go bump in the night?” Akari tries not to smile at the severe tone in the warden’s voice.

“I think I’d like that before believing in invisible, undetectable assailants who slipped by everyone in security.” The young guard tips his head. “The patterning of damage gives the impression that whoever-it-was had anger directed at 8990, and no one else. 8170 was just an obstacle in the way. It’s strange when 8990’s file tells us that he has no strong connections with anyone, not even to villain or vigilante groups. So, what would the motivation be to go through all this trouble to attack him ? It seems like a lot of effort for little effect. He didn’t even look surprised.”

Kumon looks to Akari with a severe look, who blushes at the sudden attention. “Dr. Utsushida. Your thoughts?”

“I-I only just started parsing through his files when I received them this morning, so I haven't gotten through them all.” She quickly slides through the security pattern to access her notes. “Everything from previous professionals suggests he has uncontrollable Pyschokinesis during absence seizures. But,” she glances up at her colleagues, coworkers, and boss. “After the violent death of his father by an alleged villain attack seven years ago, 8990 was insistent on ‘monsters nobody else could see’ were coming for him. He remained persistent on that viewpoint throughout the first two therapy sessions and also that he was to blame for his parents’ deaths, even though their deaths occurred three years apart; his mother’s was before his Quirk even manifested.”

She took a breath, barreling through her unfinished written summary. “He continued mandatory counseling sessions and given anti-psychotics. The medicine only made his presumed Wild Quirk episodes worse so they were discontinued. He never again mentioned or alluded to monsters in counseling sessions. When questioned directly about them, he would make blanket statements that the belief in made-up monsters being real was something crazy people did and that he wasn’t crazy.”

Straightening from her slouch, she looks up to see her colleagues with varying expressions, some empathetic, some sad and thoughtful. The guards express a dark sort of grimness. Most of the prison staff here had kids of their own, so Akari was expecting it. It was well known that HR only hired people with a soft spot for kids at this facility. The low recidivism rates once their prisoners finished their sentences were proof that their methodologies were effective.

“Hell, if I was tellin’ the truth an’ people decided I was crazy, I wouldna said a damn thing about it neither,” Officer Takada to Officer Nozomi’s left says tiredly in his Okinawan drawl. “Them meds can really fuck your shit up. An’ hell, he was a _kid_.”

“Alright,” Kumon states, and their attention snaps back to her. “We’ll not rule out that ‘monsters’ are behind this. I’d like the evidence for it.” She looks to the facility’s Head Quirk Researcher in charge of the Inmate Quirk Support Devices. His team was the reason why the inmates remained secure and their Quirks held in check.

The small, graying researcher in a cardigan shrugs. “Personally, I’d prefer that someone with a combined Invisibility & Power Boost Quirk snuck in. My team and I didn’t see _anything_. The infrared-to-UV sensor didn’t pick anything up within the room. While the massive radio dish we use to detect illicit communications _had_ been picking up extra noise during the specified timeframe, it was knocked offline along with the rest of our power grid. But that was because the power relays tripped off to prevent damage to sensitive equipment. The sheer volume of relays that had to be reset pointed to an outside influence on a colossal scale because it caused an inductive, harmonic effect on any and all transformers. So—”

Kumon pinches her nose and takes a deep breath. “Dr. Horikawa, please dumb it down for the rest of us?”

More slowly, the pale taupe-skinned man supplies, “Our main power grid and all subsequent systems went down because something like a giant magnet created current in all directions, even opposite to what the system was designed for. This resulted in protective relays disconnecting the circuit. The hardened auxiliary power system started up scant seconds later without any such fluctuations, but it was designed especially to handle EMP attacks. I thank the planners for that built-in redundancy.”

“And…?”

Dr. Horikawa leans back and takes a sip from his coffee. “My team believed at the time it was an influx of charged particles from the sun which caused a minor geomagnetic storm that created the problem, since the sun is in its most active state.” He clasps his hands together, leaning forward until his grayish, long nose rested on top of his fingers. “However, we checked with the space weather forecast today and it was clear. And, no other facility near us reported an outage to a GIC event.”

While everyone seemed to be processing this, the physicist momentarily waves a hand around. “Did no one notice that right after the inmate was dropped we suffered an attack to our infrastructure, not unlike a massive EMP strike? No one?”

The warden closed her eyes looking thoughtful. “So, what is your theory?”

“Well.” Dr. Horikawa’s soft gray eyes gaze towards Akari. “I noticed something else equally important. Inmate 8990 looked especially preoccupied when 8170 was heckling him, but not in the way someone being bullied would act. I can only deduce that he could tell something was about to happen by his proactive measures.” He unclasps his hands to briefly mime the protective head tuck. “We may not have full evidence yet, but it is only a matter of time. I can only speculate that what we know about his Quirk is wrong and instead must deal with a trickier subset of quantum physics. Namely, string theory, particularly the parts about higher dimensions beyond what mere three-dimensionals should be able to sense. And... if a strong enough electric pulse is enough to disrupt the attack then…” He frowns and then pulls out a notepad from his pocket, scribbling furiously and muttering under his breath.

Kumon flicks her hand for him to continue, but Dr. Horikawa’s frown deepens, his attention hyper-focused. Akari leans a little towards him to see a long equation of some kind filled with higher level of mathematics that she couldn’t hope to understand. One of Dr. Horikawa’s engineers, the one with purple-hair—Akari thinks her name was Shinsou—is peering over his shoulder and quietly adding input of her own.

There’s a soft click from Kumon’s direction, and the pictures disappear as the clip restarts. They all watch as 8990’s eyes shifted and tried to look around 8170’s broad shoulders. Each time the other teen kept shifting, wanting 8990’s attention kept on him. 8990 finally looked up at him and said something that the cameras don’t pick up with the level of noise in the mess hall. He easily dodged a strike from 8170 as if the other inmate had telegraphed it. 8990 stayed down close to the floor, looking through his legs, and then tilted his head back up, forehead creased with intense worry. Next moment, 8170’s body was swiped to the side and was flung across the room like he was made of cotton, not ultra-dense muscle and bone.

Kumon pauses it again. “Has anyone interviewed 8170? Dr. Mori?”

The Inmate Medbay Specialist nods, long black braids shot with pink swaying with the movement. He lifts his green tablet with bronze hands, nails decorated with gold nail polish. “Should I run through his sustained injuries?”

“Give us your report.”

“Inmate 8170 presented with hypoperfusion with tachycardia and dyspnea.” When the medical jargon made several eyes glaze with little comprehension, Dr. Mori licked across the golden lipstick decorating his lips in a nervous habit. Quickly, he repeats himself, “Ah. He came in showing shock symptoms, elevated heart rate and shortness of breath. He had broken ribs on the left side, a cracked right clavicle, a concussion, a ruptured spleen and lacerated liver, and punctured left lung. I healed the soft tissue damage, but he’ll need oxygen and bed rest until his lung recovers fully. His ribs and clavicle will need about a month to heal up, and he’ll be required to wear a sling that keeps his right arm immobile. After that, He’ll need to take it easy.” He flicks a finger on the tablet screen. “During examination, he grabbed Nurse Kanno telling him that ‘chicken bones’ was in trouble—now, Inmate 8990 based off the video footage—and that he tried to warn him of ‘it’ coming. He said the attack felt like a blow from a sledge hammer but with a scooping action.”

“And what about 8990’s medical records?” Kumon directs this question to the other medical staff as the medical doctor takes that question as a dismissal and sits down.

They weren’t bundled with the psychiatric records, so Akari shakes her head when Kumon raises another thick eyebrow at her. She forces herself to stay still after the brief attention leaves her, her heart doing funny things in her chest. _Get a grip!_

“Well,” one of the inmate health specialists—Akari thinks his name is Enoshima—says, “I only received his file this morning and we’ve been considerably short-staffed with Kitamoto gone due to family emergency, so… ah. I haven’t looked in depth yet, sir. But, from the size of it and the way he anticipated medical staff’s queries during his intake? I’d say he’s extremely well-versed with medical protocol.” He pauses and then adds, “The recent results from his blood work showed that he had several nutritional deficiencies, anemia being the most concerning. When prompted, he didn’t list any dietary restrictions or allergies. That, coupled with his low weight and the prominent bruises on him—besides the one from a fall he took a few days ago—initiated a mandatory reporter to investigate his family situation or situations.”

Kumon is rubbing her forehead with an agitation that Akari has seen only twice since being hired there. “Something isn’t adding up. Something’s missing.”

Calculation, the ability to pull data together into coherent picture, was Kumon’s specialty. It typically made hard cases come apart like pressure-cooked meat.

Blue eyes sharpening, Kumon turned to her office assistant. “When was the information on his whereabouts released?”

“Today at ten.”

Kumon begins to laugh, which is not a sound anyone wanted to hear by the way everyone stiffens, excluding Officer Nozomi of course, who hadn’t had the pleasure. “Ah. I see. I believe that his is not the only Quirk that interacts with these… what were they, Dr. Horikawa? Creatures from a higher dimension?”

The Head Quirk Researcher gives an abrupt nod, finally passing the notepad to his subordinates. Shinsou and an average-looking researcher, whose name Akari keeps forgetting, pore over the rough sketches and doodles of futuristic-looking weapons akin to Trekkie phasers all the way to the mundane such as tech-infused Billy clubs.

Kumon smiles when her eyes catch on the notes. It’s razor-sharp. “You’ll need to prioritize countermeasures. If these creatures can affect reality around 8990, then that shouldn’t be so difficult, no?”

“…In theory,” the humble Dr. Horikawa says, “The problem is that there’s very little data on the entire matter. Quirks manifesting powers on a quantum level is one thing, but this Quirk of 8990 has interaction with a place beyond our data collectors. It relies on an entirely unproven theoretical subject, for which data doesn’t exist. My team cannot prepare feasible devices without having deeper understanding of 8990’s Quirk. At this point anything we concoct at present will be simple flights of fancy and Edisonian trial and error with more failure than success.”

The smile hasn’t left the warden’s face. “Then get the data. I doubt 8990 will refuse, so long as your methods are not invasive or bothersome.”

“And how…?” Dr. Horikawa tilts his head at her with dawning horror. “You wish for me to create a VR Box for him?”

Akari blinks. She didn’t know much about Dr. Horikawa’s Quirk, other than it bent a small area of reality into a box.

“Nothing has ever entered there without your permission, right?” The warden counters with a smooth coolness.

“Of course, but its nature is closer to _containment_ ,” Dr. Horikawa answers stiffly. “I can’t know if the Box will keep creatures beyond our dimension _outside_ of it.” He rubs the shell of his left ear. “My main contention is that I’ve never actively held someone there indefinitely. It is unethical and more than a little dangerous.”

“Simply have the exit open at predetermined times according to the schedule the AAA Bloc follows. Treat it like a normal cell. You can exactly control the parameters of the Box, and I am sure you would not allow an environment antithetical to life for 8990.”

“And if this fails against these beings—”

“One step at a time, Dr. Horikawa. You said you wanted data. You’ll have plenty of data on how his Quirk functions if he spends time there. That is also a part of your Quirk, no?”

“Well. Yes… I suppose,” the Head Quirk Research trails off uneasily. He still looks like the idea doesn’t sit well with him.

Clapping her hands once, Kumon looks at each person. “While you may not be personally assigned to 8990, I fully expect everyone on this newly formed action committee to provide support should it be needed. I’ll add everyone to a channel on the secure chat server, so we can keep everyone informed on immediate developments. I still expect more detailed reports emailed to me.” She glances down at her phone, probably checking the time. “I’ve kept you long enough, so I’ll see you again this time next week unless another emergency presents itself. Keep up the good work.”

Everyone disperses, streaming out in softly-spoken collectives, but Kumon is giving Akari that ‘stay put’ look, so she cradles her tablet and waits until the room is clear.

Kumon crosses her arms and leans against the heavy metal table. She looks at her for a long moment. “No one is allowed to visit him if they come from outside this facility. I already had the order approved by the commissioner. In ten years, I’ve already lost three kids to mysterious government officials.” Her eyes harden. “They were all orphans with powerful Quirks and no one to miss them. Their records disappeared without a trace with all trace of their existences expunged from every database. Someone had to program a search-and-destroy bot to be so thorough. Even their names were excised from search engines.” She tapped her temple. “Only my memory remains of them. I won’t let the same thing happen to Natsume.”

Surprised that her boss knew the kid’s name, Akari looks up with worry. “Do you think they’re behind this attack?”

“No. That's the work of someone else.” Kumon’s fingers drum where they rest on her elbow. “They could be aware of what’s happening to powerful orphans in government custody and want to protect him. Or it could be that they don’t want his Quirk’s true nature to be revealed for whatever reason.” She thinks for a moment. “Or it could be both. Those two motives aren’t mutually exclusive. I don’t have enough information to see a clear picture, so it could be something else even if my gut says _vigilante_.”

“What about whatever stopped attack?”

“Honestly? I don’t have a clue.” She brings a thumbnail to her teeth, clamping down, her eyebrows furrowed. Dropping her hand to her hip, she frowns. “Could be another monster not liking how he was being handled. Could be another interested party who simply doesn’t want the other getting him first. Could be no one at all and the attack was simply a threat: ‘Look how easy it is to take him away from you’.”

Akari’s eyes widen.

Stepping forward, Kumon rests a comforting hand on Akari’s shoulder. “That’s all pure conjecture. We can’t know what’s truly going on until time reveals their plot. In the meantime, I’m counting on you to gain his trust. That’s where I want you to focus. I can bend the rules here and there if need be, since he’s incredibly compliant, to give him incentives to meet his goals. In the meantime, I’ll push my contacts to see if I can get any influence over rehoming choices. I’ll do the background checks myself, if need be.”

Akari’s throat is tight. “H-how do you even know there will be someone to even check?” He had passed through so many distant relatives like an unwanted toy. “You just said he was an orphan.”

Her boss smiles again, but it’s soft like a gentle sunrise. “I watched every amateur video of the incident at his last school that I could find in addition to the official news channel. There was a kid who didn’t shy away from him, who wanted to help.” Her eyes grow nostalgic and indulgent, and Akari can’t look away. “A famous man once said, that in a time of a disaster, you can derive comfort from the fact that there are so many helpers in this world.” She chuckles warmly at Akari’s sappy expression and turns towards the exit. “A kind boy like that is bound to have a kind parent or two, right Dr. Utsushida?”

“A-ah, y-yeah.” Watching as her boss leaves, Akari’s heart is in her throat. _Stupid crush_ , she thinks, her face darkening with her blush. What made it worse was that Kumon probably _knew it_. Why else would she tell her something so important? Akari’s complete loyalty to Kumon was so obvious.

With a deep breath, she clicks on her tablet and does the complicated pattern to unlock the screen. She taps on the required icon attached with multiple notifications, which she knows resides on the prison’s private server.

 

**8990 Action Committee [11 messages unread]**

              Enoshima, RN:   _‘8990 is still unconscious but stable and has been safely transported to the Box.’_

              Yamazaki, BA:   _‘8170 has convinced most AAA inmates that  8990’s monsters exist.’_

              Takada, BS:        'i _dk how thats bad’_

              Yamazaki, BA:   _‘If the other inmates get scared?’_

              Takada, BS:       ' _oh nvm thats bad’_  
_‘these guys go into fight mode’_  
_‘nothin to report outside AAA Bloc’_  
_‘guess word hasnt spread yet’_

              Horikawa, PHD: _‘Dr. @Utsushida, when will you arrive for post-incident counseling session?”_

              Nozomi, GED:    _‘Have y’all seen the news yet? Some kid zapped a Villain gang into submission after one of them used Compulsion on him to steal work from his family’s Support Agency!’_  
_'He’s evading capture by slipping out of the Hero’s traps. He must be listening in on their frequency if he’s always a step ahead of freaking_ Eraserhead _. That kid’s so going to get sent here. But he’s so fun to_ watch _.’_  
_‘uh… Wrong chat. Sorry.’_

              Mori, MD:          _‘Stay on topic.’  
                                       '8990 has been given IVF therapy to counteract vitamin and mineral deficiencies’_

              Utsushida, MD: _‘Dr. @Horikawa, at 4pm. I can postpone the session if you need extra time.’_

Akari pulls away from her tablet and clicks lightly on the powerbutton to make sure the lockscreen pops up before she begins her trek to her office. 8990’s case isn’t the only one she can focus on, but she might as well get settled in to pre-emptively start the digital paperwork before his counseling session.

* * *

Despite their best efforts to coddle 8990, and while he makes marked progress in his physical goals, he simply isn’t doing well on the mental battlefront. He isn’t responding to any of the anti-depressants Akari has prescribed and while he has been a little less hostile towards his own Quirk he hasn’t made any headway in self-acceptance.

As the weeks stretched, it’s grown apparent that his excessive ennui has more to do with his lack of connections to others—regardless of whether they’re a fellow inmate or an authority figure—and deep-set loneliness than boredom. He is also disconnected from his own feelings, and they spend every session slowly identifying them. His sense of self is scattered, and his docile, indifferent attitude has more to do with his coping mechanism to events outside of his control than an absence of will power.

She’s not even sure what keeps him motivated to function daily when he’s so weighed down by persistent thoughts of how pointless everything is. She thinks that he’s more afraid of possible repercussions from the guards if he refused to follow the preordained schedule. Nurse Enoshima and several guards had reported that 8990 flinches whenever someone handles him. He is unused to kind, physical contact.

At least he doesn’t have insomnia or anorexia and doesn’t self-harm as his records had indicated. Additionally, 8990 has yet to be attacked within Dr. Horikawa’s VR Box so they can tentatively conclude that even higher dimensional beings cannot enter. As a result, 8990 gets the rest he’s desperately needed his entire life; when gently probed, he quietly admits to Akari that ‘they’ often are even more active at night and asks her to thank the tech department for their hard work. Akari was a little conflicted in that moment, but quickly agrees to send the message on his behalf. That afternoon, once the committee’s weekly meeting adjourns, Dr. Horikawa turns a bit pink when she finally remembers to pass the message to him.

“8990 has no idea his cell is a simulated environment, does he?” Shinsou asks her as the semi-flustered Quirk physicist quickly excuses himself.

“None,” Akari assures the violet-haired engineer.

“He’s bound to be disappointed when the VR Box finally reaches its Entropy Limit.” At Akari’s look of alarm, Shinsou quickly waves a few fingers. “It’s alright! It’s an isolated system, so Dr. Horikawa has to add energy to it to keep it stable, but the longer it’s in existence the more energy it takes to maintain. Eventually the entropy in the system will overcome the amount of energy to keep it stable and destabilize. Don’t worry! He’ll collapse the Box while 8990 is out and reform it again before it implodes and takes out a bit of the prison with it.”

“Oh,” Akari says dumbly. That’s what Dr. Horikawa meant when he said his Quirk was dangerous. Shinsou grins and heads after the Head Quirk Researcher.

After that doozy, Akari isn’t quite sure what to do with that information, but decides to trust that the Quirk Restraint Engineering & Development Division that Dr. Horikawa headed will do their best to whip something up for 8990 before they all die from a violently collapsing bubble within reality. Yeah. Best not to think of that scenario.

Akari stares down at the newest case number she’d been assigned, 8997. The only reason why this one had been sent straight to DQRCF was because his Quirk was ridiculously over-powered. He could release at the maximum 1.3 million volts, which was more than enough to kill anyone within range. Even powerlines only ran at most 765 thousand volts, according to scribbled notes in the margin on 8997’s digital profile, and in an open field with no grounding sources? He could hit anyone within a 200m radius.

Despite this, after intake a couple days ago, 8997 was given the E rank for lowest security risk. After all, there were no deaths from the unauthorized use of his Quirk. Both the evasion of authority, Quirk misemployment, and the harmful potential of his Quirk gave the judge ample reason to give 8997’s first offense a harsher sentence than someone with a weaker Quirk.  

However, after the preliminary counseling session she’d had with him and the small psychological profile she’d read, he would be the perfect fit. He had several younger siblings, likely with the same level of emotional maturity that 8990 had. She was absolutely certain that within the five weeks of 8997’s stay, he would provide the positive social immersion 8990 required. Even his proclivity to rebel against convention could only help counter 8990’s indifference.

After sending out a detailed report of her professional reasoning behind an inmate transfer through email to Kumon and concerned parties, she leaned back thoughtfully. After a few moments, she clicked the home button on her tablet. Then she quickly tapped on the app with multiple icons, and clicked on a particular channel.

**8990 Action Committee [16 messages unread]**

                 Shinsou, PE:     _‘New batch has been deployed.’_

              Horikawa, PHD:   _‘8990 has a new jumpsuit in production. Delayed since the funds have not been approved.’_

                  Kumon:    ' _The appropriations committee would never approve such an outrageous sum. Make it in-house.’_

              Horikawa, PHD:   ' _We do not have the necessary equipment for fabrication. K Unlimited does.’_

                  Kumon:    ' _I’ll call them. Send me the details.’_

_\------------------------------Today-----------------------------------------------------------_

              Nozomi, GED:    _‘Those batons work, Dr. Horikawa! The library’s a mess though. :’( RIP Stacks.’_

              Horikawa, PHD: _‘Excellent. I’ll let my team know. We have some ideas for a ranged device as well as a passive detection system to trip a repulsion system to deter entry.’_

              Yamazaki, BA:   _‘8990 needs fresh air and sunlight. There’s gotta be a way to let him outside.’_

              Enoshima, RN:  _‘8990 has a concussion, ankle sprain, and deep bruising from the library incident.'  
                                      'Do not let him outside.’_

              Yamazaki, BA:   _‘I’d die. How hasn’t he gone stir crazy. The Box has no windows outside of itself because it’s pocket space. That can’t be good for his mental health.’_  
_'Dr. @Utsushida, what do you think?’_

              Nozomi, GED:    _‘God, I hate how flinchy he gets after an attack. He won’t look at anyone and is doing that “everything’s okay” fake smile when the other inmates ask after him. Dude, they know what’s up. You’ve got huge, hand-shaped bruises around your neck. What’s the point in lying about it?’_

              Yamazaki, BA:   _‘I know. He’s been here three weeks and hasn’t even made a friend. Does he even know how?’_

              Nozomi, GED:    _‘I dunno. I tried giving him some mochi as a peace offering but he gave me a look like I poisoned it and then politely declined. It was in its plastic wrapping and everything.'_  
_'What the heck, man. Maybe he doesn’t like mochi.’_

              Yamazaki, BA:   _‘I think if he shared a cell it might help? He spends hours by himself in the Box. He might as well be in solitary confinement during that time.’_

              Nozomi, GED:    _‘But I think he likes it in there? Maybe he’s been alone too much. Y’know, like those dogs who were kept from other dogs when they were a puppy and they don’t know how to play without_ accidentally _starting fights? :(‘_

              Yamazaki, BA:   _‘You really mess me up with these analogies. Quit it.’_

  
Akari let out a deep breath. The nature of their job made it hard for prison guards to keep professional distance since they directly interacted with the inmates many times a day. But their sharp observations shored up her professional opinion. They couldn’t continue on their present course and expect any sort of breakthrough on 8990’s mental wellbeing.

              Utsushida, MD: _‘@Kumon, I recommended the transfer of Inmate 8997 to 8990’s cell. Based on his psychological profile, he would have a positive impact on 8990’s well-being.’_

              Nozomi, GED:    _‘!!!!!!! YAASSSSSS… wait you can do that? Isn’t he E rank?’_

              Takada, BS:      _‘doods a horder’_  
                                        _‘evry day i have to cleen it out’_  
_‘hes alwys doin trades'  
                                       'wit s_ _hit he shouldnt hav’_  
 _‘wear does he git it all’_  
_‘n he tinkers wit shit he shouldnt’_  
_‘plz take 8997’_  
_‘if u need a reason’_  
_‘ srsly all thos infrctns +++++++’_  
_‘ wud make him B rank at lest’_

_Kumon is typing…_

  
Akari held her breath, hoping her boss would agree.

                       Kumon:     _‘Transfer of 8997 to AAA Bloc is approved. Effective immediately. You will find the appropriate paperwork has already been filed.’_

              Nozomi, GED:    _‘YAAAAAAAS. Talking about 8997 is now on topic. :D’_

              Takada, BS: _‘noobs like u hav no idea'_  
                              ' _wat ur gettin into’_  
_‘kids like him r hard to scold’_  
_‘he will drive u crazy’_  
_‘cuz he is smart wit charm ovr 9000’_  
_'dont say i didnt warn u’_

              Yamazaki, BA:   _‘Thanks for the heads’ up, Takada.’_

              Takada, BS:        _‘no prob’_

 _  
_ Closing out of the chat, Akari drinks some of her iced latte and shifts her mindset to her next case. After all, besides 8990’s she has about thirty others she presides over, all with different needs. It’s only after they get an inmate’s full psychological records that they can determine whether the inmate needs less specialized care. Thank god she’s not the only psychiatrist on the payroll since they split the priority cases and intakes evenly between them.

She’s certain that 8990 will improve, so long as 8997’s protective, helpful nature isn’t strongly rebuffed.


End file.
